The Nature of Strength
by BlueTrillium
Summary: Several months after Albel’s return from the battle with the Creator, King Arzei’s wedding is finally approaching. Albel’s willing to do his part to support the peace, but did they have to make him dance? Seriousness, eventual Albel x Nel
1. Honesty and Politics

Welcome, everyone, to my first fanfic ever! Enjoy, and please review. Thank you.

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**Disclaimer: **_Star Ocean: Til the End of Time _and all of its characters, locations, events, and items are the property of…Tri-Ace, I believe. At any rate, they do not belong to me, and I am not making any profit from this piece of fiction. Any new characters, locations, events and items this story may introduce _do_ belong to me. Please do not use them without my permission.

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**Extended Summary: **Several months after Albel's return from the battle with the Creator, peace talks between Aquios and Airyglyph are nearing completion. The event that would seal the peace, King Arzei's wedding, is finally approaching. Albel's willing to do his part to support the peace, but did they _have_ to make him _dance_? (Seriousness; some philosophical stuff; eventual Albel x Nel)

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**(September 8, 2005)** Chapter One is finally here! Thanks to Fluffymadness for reading over the first version of the chapter for me, and a huge hug to Lucrecia LeVrai for all her help in coming up with some additional ideas. I expect Chapter Two to be ready in about two weeks, if we're lucky.

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The Nature of Strength  
By: BlueTrillium

Chapter 1: Honesty and Politics

Albel Nox stood on the battlements of Airyglyph castle, staring blankly down across the training grounds. The frigid mountain wind howled around him, slicing across the exposed skin of his back, snapping his braids against his shoulders like the lash of a whip. Albel didn't mind the wind; it was truthful, brutally honest; it declared its intent loudly for anyone who had the wit to hear. Over the last few months, Albel had come to appreciate blatant truth – it was much easier to deal with than the false smiles and hidden intentions of the court as Airyglyph and Aquaria fleshed out the bones of the peace treaty. Trade agreements, the exchange of prisoners, the dispersal of the armies, the settlement of feuds and the sharing of knowledge – all had to be drawn up and agreed upon, each side maneuvering, trying to gain an advantage over the other – it was sickening.

Much as Albel would have liked to slice all the ambassadors and their paperwork to ribbons, though, he would not do so. Traveling with the off-worlders had taught him that power without control was often wasted. So he had learned control. It had paid off enough times to make the effort worthwhile. Controlling his words, however, had proved to be a much more difficult task than controlling his actions, and that was in part the reason why he was out here instead of inside helping to create the treaty. As the King pointed out, the ambassadors were unlikely to agree to suggestions put forth by someone who referred to them as 'worms'. Albel was just as glad for the reprieve.

Movement caught his eye as an elderly man in a red robe entered the training court. Woltar, of course. No one else would dare come out there once Albel made it clear he wanted to be alone. "Hmph." The young swordsman turned his back, looking out over the frosty crenellations. Woltar negotiated with the best – or worst, from Albel's point of view – of them. Measured footsteps crunched through the snow as the old man neared the base of the wall.

"Albel." Albel ignored him. "Albel, come down. We need to talk," came the command. The slim warrior concentrated on the feel of the wind striking his face and didn't reply. Woltar fell silent for a moment, and Albel could almost hear him considering his options. It amused him to wonder which path the old man would take. His old bones wouldn't be able to climb the ladder up the wall, and since they were allies, he wouldn't take up a bow and threaten Albel down that way…_though being 'allies' _– Albel mentally spat the word, clenching his fist invisibly against the stone – _didn't stop Duke Vox from throwing me in the dungeon and torturing me._ The old man had already tried ordering him down, so what was left?

"Albel – _please._ This is important." Astonished, the knight's crimson eyes widened at the sound of real pleading in Woltar's voice. Then his eyes narrowed and his spine stiffened as the thought occurred to him that the old man might be toying with him just like he did with the ambassadors here for the treaty. More lies.

Slowly he turned around and glared down at Woltar. "What is it, old man?"

"Come down here," the count gestured, "so we don't have to shout."

Anger drew Albel's lips into a thin line. So. It was back to orders again. Still, nothing useful would be accomplished by him staying up on the wall. Disdaining the ladder, Albel leapt gracefully down to the ground, landing crouched in front of the aged advisor. Straightening up, he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. "Well, what _is_ it?" he asked again. _Hmm…Woltar _does _look concerned, _he mused, but did not relax.

"I need to know…how you feel about the peace," the count said. "Are you against it?"

Albel's hard-won control was lost for a moment as his head jerked up in surprise, looking Woltar in the face. _What the hell kind of question is that?_ The old man just stood, patiently waiting for an answer as if he had all day. He meant it, then. Albel let out a huff of air, then allowed his hair to obscure his face again as he looked at the ground. _How am I supposed to answer that?_ he thought confusedly. _Why does it matter what I think? I'm not part of the peace talks._ But…the old coot seemed to think it was important…_Bah. He won't leave me alone until I answer him, anyway._

"Hmph. I think these talks have degenerated into nit-picking. Honestly, what can it matter how many rooms are set aside for visiting ambassadors, or what time of day meals are served? And that maggot Lasselle…" Albel's lip curled into a sneer.

Woltar shook his head. "No, no boy. Not your feelings about the _talks. _I need to know what you think of the peace, itself."

Albel's sneer deepened at the use of the word 'boy', but he let it pass. "I'm for it." He smirked inwardly at the old man's surprise.

"You-you're for it." Albel heard uncertainty and…relief?

"You heard me, old man. Don't look so surprised. There's no entertainment value in killing someone that's not even a challenge. Even Crosell's not worth a fight anymore. If working with those Aquarian fools will improve the conditions in Airyglyph, then it's fine by me. That's what we were fighting for, anyway, wasn't it? Besides, the war was Duke Vox's pet project, not mine. I've got nothing to prove anymore." He absently flicked snowflakes off his claw as he awaited the count's response.

Woltar recovered from his surprise with commendable speed. "I am truly glad to hear you say that, my boy, truly glad. You don't seem to understand how important your support of this peace is."

Albel shot him a quizzical look through his black-blonde curtain of hair. "Explain."

The old man sighed, pinching the bridge of his rather beaky nose thoughtfully. "Albel, surprised as you may be to hear this, there are a lot of people in this country that look up to you. There are also quite a few who don't want peace, only revenge. If they believe you feel the same way, they may try to band together with you as their rallying-point and start up the war again. Even if you do nothing, they may assume you are against the peace and try to restart the war in your name."

Albel moved away from the wall slowly. "So what you're saying is…"

"…You must actively, publicly support the peace." Woltar nodded.

Albel snorted. "I'm not giving a speech, old man."

"Don't worry, we don't expect that of you," the aged advisor chuckled. "The King and I have some other things in mind."

The lean warrior was interested in spite of himself. "Well, spit it out, then."

"You may not like it," Woltar warned.

Albel re-crossed his arms and shrugged.

"First of all, as evidenced by the 'nit-picking' you pointed out, the talks are nearly done. The large issues have all been taken care of, leaving only the small, finicky points to be ironed out. Once the treaty is finished and signed, we will be traveling to Aquios for the King's wedding. You will be coming with us."

Albel nodded. He had known that already. After all, who could protect the King better than him? "Go on."

"It'll take us nearly two months to get there, and we'll be stopping at least a day at every town along the way." At Albel's look of disbelief, he explained "People expect the nobility to travel with all the pomp and luxury possible. Though the King would prefer to do without such things in order to move more swiftly, there are nobles in the entourage that refuse to go without. So we bring it all and our speed suffers for it."

"Fools," Albel muttered, recalling that it had taken at most a month and a half to travel from Airyglyph City to Aquios when he had traveled with Fayt and the others. Now this journey threatened to be half again as long.

"Here's where the first part of your task comes in," Woltar said, drawing his attention back. "At each town, if you see an opportunity to help the peace along, take it. Break up a fight, talk to someone who's against the peace, whatever."

Albel grimaced at the thought of preaching peace at someone – what could _he_ say that would convince them? – but at least it wasn't a speech, and there might not be something to do at every stop. "…All right, what's the second part?"

Here the old man hesitated, trying to guess how Albel would react. "Next…next is the wedding. In Aquarian tradition, the bride's and groom's guests aren't separated to sit on different sides of the church; they're mixed together. I want you to be certain that you mix with the Aquarians as much as you can."

Albel nodded reluctantly. "As long as they don't expect me to cry and share handkerchiefs with them," he said.

Woltar snorted back a laugh. "I don't think you have to worry about _that._ Although, if an Aquarian speaks with you at the wedding or the reception – yes, you're going to the reception – you must respond civilly, none of those 'worm' or 'maggot' retorts."

Albel gritted his teeth. This was going to be harder than he thought. He waved his hand for Woltar to continue.

"Furthermore, at the reception, you must _participate_. That means no skulking in shadows glaring at people. I expect to see you dancing. And if you can contrive to actually compliment something without sounding sarcastic, do it."

Albel's face had gone white at the mention of dancing, and Woltar could almost _hear_ his teeth grinding. The old man took a surreptitious step away, watching the younger man warily.

"You…expect…to see me…dancing?" Albel's arms had fallen down to his sides and both his hand and his claw were clenching and unclenching as if he wanted to tear something apart. "With _Aquarians_?" At Woltar's hesitant nod, he spun and punched the wall with his claw. As the harsh clang rebounded within the courtyard, he muttered, "How in all the hells do I get myself into these things?" He shifted until he was leaning face-first into the wall with his arms bent over his head, letting the stone cool his temper. If he was to pull this off, he would need all the practice in cooling his temper that he could get, he thought wryly.

Woltar, seeing that Albel had regained control, ventured, "Will you do it?"

Still breathing hard, Albel jerked his head up and down against the stone in acceptance. Airyglyph's future was worth the temporary humiliation.

Wasn't it?

Albel contemplated this for a moment. Yes, it was worth it. He pushed himself off the wall and turned back to Woltar. Laughing humorlessly, he said, "You don't ask for much, do you, old man?" Albel thought for a moment. "You know, there's quite a large hole in your plan."

"And what's that?" the elderly warrior asked innocently.

_Oh, as if you don't know,_ Albel thought sarcastically. "In case you have forgotten, to the Aquarians I am 'Albel the Wicked'. How am I supposed to talk or sit or dance with any of the fools if _they_ avoid _me_?"

"Certainly, you have a valid point," Woltar conceded. "And if some Aquarians try to avoid you, by all means don't force yourself on them. However, it seems reasonable to believe that the Queen will be giving similar instructions to her people about their conduct, so I don't think you will have too many problems."

_True. _"All right, I'll go along with that," Albel said, keeping his voice even. "Anything else?"

Woltar's eyes went to the young man's claw-arm. "We'll have to do something about your claw, so it looks less…warlike…and you'll need some formal clothes…"

Something almost like amusement glinted behind Albel's eyes. "Don't worry about the claw; the off-worlders put together a 'present' before they left that should take care of that. And what's wrong with my clothes? They're good enough for the council."

"Ah, Albel my boy, you have a lot to learn about formal court celebrations. Come with me and we'll see what we can do…"


	2. Remembering Why

**Disclaimer: **If you're looking for this story's disclaimer, please refer to Chapter One.

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**(September 23, 2005) **Sorry, I didn't quite make the two-week deadline I gave myself, but hey, I'm only one day late! Huge thanks to Lucrecia LeVrai for helping me get this out as quickly as I did. Thanks to all the reviewers and those that kept requesting an update. That's what keeps me going, sometimes. Otherwise I tend to bea queen of procrastination.

Action fans may be a bit bored with this chapter, since it's mostly Albel's thoughts as he packs for the trip. Trust me, there _is_ a reason behind this chapter, though – some of the items he packs may be important later, and I hope you can also see how Albel has changed since the time he first met Fayt and Co. Also, you can tell a lot about a person by what and how s/he packs…

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The Nature of Strength  
By: BlueTrillium

Chapter 2: Remembering Why

Albel stalked into his rooms in Airyglyph castle, several sets of formal court robes folded neatly over his shoulder. He fought down the urge to slam the door, closing it quietly instead. Then he contemplated tossing the robes onto the floor, but again asserted control over himself and placed them carefully on top of his bed.

Throwing himself into his chair, he scowled at the clothing. The rich fabric seemed to mock him. Wearing those robes…he would look just like those lying ambassadors. Would he begin to act like them, too?

"No!" Albel shook his head violently. _Wearing clothes like them doesn't force me to _be _like them, _he told himself fiercely. _They're just clothes._ He took a deep breath and allowed a low chuckle to escape his lips. He couldn't believe he was letting himself get so worked up over clothing. _I suppose it's just the symbolism,_ he thought. _If I dress like what I hate, it feels like I _become_ what I hate. _He sighed, remembering when he attained the Crimson Scourge. _Not like _that's _anything new._

Standing abruptly, he walked across the room and pulled a traveler's trunk out of the back of his closet. He dragged it a bit nearer to the bed, then flung it open, coughing a bit as some dust flew up off the lid. Since he usually had to travel fast and light, the trunk didn't get much use.

Albel then grabbed his knapsack from its place beside the door and set it next to the trunk. The knapsack would contain the day-to-day items; the trunk would have those items he wouldn't need until they reached Aquios, since it might be packed who-knows-where in a wagon until they got there. The knapsack would stay with him.

The sack still had some items in it from the last time he had traveled, but since that trip had only been to clean out some monsters along the path through the Traum Mountains, it wasn't much. He rummaged through it, seeing what was there and what he might need to add or replace.

A small healing kit: bandages, a few blueberries and aquaberries, some healing herbs like basil and lavender, and a couple sprigs of fresh sage. A sewing kit for mending damage to clothes or leather armor, with thread that could also be used to stitch wounds if necessary. Some oil in a flask with a rag wrapped around it, for the joints of his claw-arm. Two spare daggers and a whetstone. A fishing packet that included coils of line and several hooks and lead sinkers.

Albel started to take the fishing packet out – they wouldn't likely have any opportunity to fish on this trip – then shook his head and left it in there. It didn't take up any space; there was no harm in taking it along. Maybe it would come in handy.

_Now, what to add…_Albel scowled, thinking, then went to his closet again and grabbed a couple of his usual outfits. He folded them efficiently and placed them in the sack, then went into his bathroom and picked up a chunk of soap and a small metal cup he used for rinsing. After a moment's thought, a washrag, a towel, and a comb joined the pile. He hesitated over the shaving kit and the cologne his mother had given him long ago – while traveling, he usually just used the blade of his dagger to shave with, and he didn't usually wear cologne at all – then decided to bring them. They would probably be needed once he got to Aquios; he would put them in the trunk. He grabbed some extra towels to wrap them in.

Returning to the bedroom, he dropped the cologne and the shaving kit onto the bed next to the court robes and packed the rest of the items into the knapsack. He made a mental note to stop by the healers' before they left, to get more bandages, berries, and herbs for the healing kit. Maybe he'd get a couple potions, too. It never hurt to be over-prepared.

Now for the trunk. _First things first,_ he thought, and reached under the bed, retrieving the case Fayt, Cliff, and the other off-worlders had forced upon him before they had left. Albel smirked a bit, remembering.

"_I don't need anything from you fools," Albel snarled, pushing the case back across the table to Fayt._

"_Just take it already," Cliff said, exasperated. "It's not like _we_ can use it. Don't be so stubborn."_

"_Worms. I told you, I don't –"_

"_Albel." Fayt interrupted. "I know you don't need it. But we'd like you to have it anyway. If you don't ever use it, that's fine. We just want you to keep it around in case a situation comes up where it would be useful."_

_Albel crossed his arms._

"_Look. You don't have to use it. You can throw it out as soon as we leave, if you want. But we're not taking it with us, and that's final." Fayt said firmly._

"_Maggots…fine. What is it, anyway?"_

Now Albel looked down at the case. He had never expected to use the gift, but it contained the perfect solution to Woltar's problem with his claw. Well, he wouldn't need it until Aquios, anyway.

Swiftly, he placed the case in the bottom of the trunk, layering the court robes on top of it. He pulled a few more casual outfits from his closet and stacked them in, too. After all, he didn't know yet how long they would stay in Aquios, and he would only need the court garb for the wedding and the reception, probably. Albel tucked the shaving kit and the cologne snugly along the sides of the trunk, wrapped in the extra towels. His eyes roved around the room, searching for any other items he might need. Sighting a couple bottles of cider on a shelf, he grabbed them, reasoning that he might need them to recover his temper after the dancing. Rearranging the clothing a bit, he fit the bottles in the trunk so that they would not strike against each other. A few more extra daggers and a short sword, and he was done.

Closing the trunk, he locked it with a small silvery key, then threaded the key onto a short matching chain. Awkwardly he fastened the chain one-handedly, snugly around his neck, where it would not be visible beneath the iron slave collar he had worn ever since his father died.

Actually, he recalled, it wasn't originally a slave collar at all. Airyglyph – and all the other countries on the continent of Gaitt – did not condone slavery. The old coot was the one who had found it for him…

_Fifteen-year-old Albel fumbled one-handedly through the boxes in the storage room that doubled as an armory in Woltar's mansion, inspecting items, then flinging them aside when they didn't match what he wanted. He was so caught up in examining a spiked armband he had found that he didn't hear Woltar enter._

"_What in Apris's name are you doing, boy?"_

_Startled, Albel flung the armband at the old man, but missed and hit the wall beside him instead. "Get lost, old man," he snarled, then ignored the count as he picked up a length of coarse, heavy rope and tried looping it around his neck. Shaking his head, he dumped the rope into a crate. "Too scratchy," he muttered, and continued digging._

"_Are you looking for something? What is it?" Woltar ventured, probably worried that Albel was looking for a way to kill himself. His father _had_ just recently died saving him, after all._

_Now wearing a gaudy piece of cloth on his head like a bandanna, Albel whirled around to face the elderly man. He winced involuntarily as the bandaged stump that was all that remained of his left arm brushed against a stack of boxes. "I _told_ you to get_ lost_!" Ripping the cloth off his head, the teen mumbled, "Too weird," before tossing it aside. Then he turned back to Woltar. "I don't know _what_ I'm looking for. I'm just – so – I don't know!" Albel grabbed the top of his head and squeezed in frustration._

_The count seemed lost in thought for several moments. "Hmmm…I think I might have something that could work. Come with me, Albel."_

_Albel hesitated, glancing around the room. It was in complete disarray; he had searched nearly everywhere. "All right…" he fell into step beside the old man who was his guardian now. "Where are we going?"_

"_The kennels. My biggest mastiff hound broke her chain a couple weeks ago; I think we still haven't fixed it. Do you think the collar might be something like what you're looking for?"_

_The young man shrugged. "I won't know until I see it, old man."_

Idly Albel ran his fingers over the iron band as the thought occurred to him that it would undoubtedly be yet another thing that would be considered inappropriate to wear to the wedding. Reaching the short chain still attached to the front of the collar, his hand suddenly clenched around the links. _No, _he thought. _Not this._ It meant too much to him to toss it aside just for appearance's sake.

It had taken him quite awhile to figure out why he had gone searching for "something" that day in Woltar's mansion. At first, it had been his way of expressing how enslaved he had felt after his father died; he had felt chained by the guilt, obligated to take his father's place, trapped by the expectations of others. As time went on, though, the collar had somehow morphed into the symbol of his freedom, in a way. Over the years he had stopped blindly taking orders; stopped following them just because the person giving them claimed that the orders were what his father would have done, or that they were for the good of Airyglyph. When at last Albel was able to break free and take a few steps back to truly _look_ at what he was ordered to do, he saw that more often than not the orders were for the benefit of the person giving them, rather than for Airyglyph, and they were nothing like what his father would have done, either. After that, he started going his own way, only taking orders that coincided with what he already wanted to do – or that came from someone too strong to cross. The need to break that last restriction drove him to hone his skills - physically _and_ mentally - striving to be the strongest of all.

He had nearly accomplished this goal when Arzei took the throne. Though he was only twenty, Albel's strength won him a place as captain of the Black Brigade, his knowledge of strategy earned him a seat on the council, and his unswerving loyalty to Airyglyph gained him the king's trust.

Unfortunately, his new position had also put him into almost daily contact with Duke Vox, the man who had replaced Albel's father Glou as captain of the Dragon Brigade. To Albel, Vox was a constant reminder of all he had lost when he failed the Accession to the Flame. If only he hadn't failed, if only his father hadn't protected Albel from the dragon's flames, Glou would still be in Vox's place. Vox's presence was like acid in the gaping wounds left by Glou's death, and Albel retaliated against that pain whenever he could, crossing Vox at every opportunity.

Vox, on the other hand, had seen only a rival. Albel knew from court gossip and his few friends in the Dragon Brigade that Vox was very conscious of the fact that this "young upstart" would have inherited _his_ position had things gone differently, and still might do so if Vox wasn't careful enough. The trust growing between Albel and the king was a threat to him. Undermining that trust had become Vox's first priority.

Nearly four years later, Vox had succeeded.

Albel's grip on the chain hardened, and he growled as he remembered that awful moment – nearly a year ago, now – when Arzei had weighed his faith in Albel against what Vox claimed about the Black Brigade captain's actions, and Albel had lost.

"_Arzei." Albel gave a perfunctory bow in front of the throne, warily keeping Vox within his sight. The man looked insufferably smug, and that was enough to put him on his guard. "You have a mission for me?"_

"_Sir Albel." The king gravely returned the greeting, halting his bodyguard's automatic protest at Albel's lack of traditional respect through ease of long habit. "Duke Vox has brought some serious accusations against you."_

_The young captain glared at Vox. "What, then?"_

"_He claims you freely and knowingly allowed the Aquarian spies to escape from the Kirlsa Training Facility, when you could easily have stopped them. He also accuses you of allowing them to escape a second time, with the copper they had stolen from the Bequerel Mine – copper our spies told us they need to complete their new weapon. And he says this is not the first time you have displayed insubordinate behavior, that you have refused his orders repeatedly, to the detriment of Airyglyph. In short, Duke Vox is declaring that you are in fact in league with Aquaria, and that you are a traitor to us. What do you have to say to these accusations?"_

_Albel stiffened. "I have _never_ done anything that would harm Airyglyph's people. I-"_

"_Oh, really?" Vox cut in. "I would think that giving Aquaria the ability to complete its weapon, so it could be used against _us, _would be harmful to the people of Airyglyph."_

"_I did not _let_ them escape with the copper! They…they defeated me." This last part was said in an embarrassed growl._

"_What?" said Vox, mock-surprised. "The mighty Albel the Wicked, defeated? How many times have you claimed that such a thing is impossible? And I find it interesting that _you_ were the only one to return alive from that mission. Surely you can't claim that a few puny _Aquarians_ defeated all of them _and _yourself?" When Albel remained stubbornly silent, unable to think of anything he could say that Vox could not turn to his advantage, somehow, Vox continued, "And what about at the training facility? Surely, returning several of the queen's spies back to her cannot be good for Airyglyph. Ah, but they _were_ quite beautiful, were they not?" Vox leered suggestively. "Perhaps you didn't want to see your _allies' _beauty marked. Perhaps you hoped -"_

_With a roar of outrage, Albel stripped his sword from its scabbard and swung it at Vox's head, only to be blocked by Vox's own blade. The duke had planned this all along, he realized. The king would believe his attack was an admission of guilt. But it was too late, now. He swung furiously at Vox, again and again, only to meet Vox's sword each time._

"_Albel. Stop." The king's voice rang out in the chamber. He froze. Whatever had happened, whatever _would _happen, Arzei was still his king, and unless Arzei turned against Airyglyph, Albel owed him his obedience. "Drop the sword." His hand clenched reflexively around the grip of the sword, but he didn't move. He couldn't. "Albel. Drop. The sword."_

_It clattered to the ground._

He shook his head. It was over now. Vox was dead, Albel had his position back as captain of the Black Brigade, and he was earning back Arzei's trust. "Hmph." Albel spat to the side, reflecting on the irony. In a reasonable world, _Arzei_ should have to earn back _his_ trust. _Albel _was the one who had been betrayed, after all. But it didn't work out that way. Though Albel's name had been cleared, the seed of doubt planted by Vox's accusations had still lingered in the king's mind. If he was honest with himself, the young warrior couldn't blame the king for believing Vox, either. If he had been in Arzei's place, if he had heard the same testimony and seen the same actions that Arzei had seen, Albel acknowledged that he would likely have done the same.

Albel's musings were interrupted by a knock on his door. "Sir Albel? The king bids me to inform you that the wedding party will be leaving in an hour. The wagons are loading by the front gate."

Quickly, the captain slung the knapsack onto his back, checked that the Crimson Scourge was still attached firmly to his belt, and then lifted the trunk onto his shoulder. Opening his door, he addressed the page standing outside. "I'm ready. Are the healers down by the gate, too?"

Ducking his head, the young boy replied, "Yes, sir. There are several healers going along, so most of them are there."

_Good. Then I won't have to make a side trip for the extra healing supplies._ "Anything else?" The page shook his head, negative. "All right then. Dismissed." The servant bowed and returned to his other duties while young knight headed for the gate.

The nearer he got to the castle gates, the more crowded the corridor became. Most of the people were servants carrying nobles' baggage. _Just how many people are coming with us, anyway?_ Albel thought in mild astonishment. _I hope the old man arranged enough security._ Woltar's command, the Storm Brigade, was going to make up the largest part of the guard on this trip, though a small unit of the Black Brigade would accompany them as well. What was left of the Dragon Brigade – nearly decimated in the war and the fight against the celestial ships – as well as the rest of the Black Brigade, would remain in Airyglyph to guard the capital while the king was gone.

Reaching the open court behind the gates, Albel was momentarily halted by the crush of people – servants, soldiers, and courtiers alike – that clogged the entire space. Scanning the crowd, he found the white cluster that signified the healers in their traditional robes and slowly made his way through to them, roughly pushing aside those nobles and soldiers who did not move fast enough, and waiting impatiently as the servants struggled with their burdens to get out of his path.

The healers had set up a table with piles of supplies for last-minute packing; Albel grabbed what he needed and packed the items into his knapsack right at the table, ignoring the crowd flowing around him.

Finished, he pushed his way through the crowd to the slightly more open area around Count Woltar and King Arzei.

"All done?" the count greeted him.

Albel grunted noncommittally. "Which wagon should I put this in?" He indicated the trunk he was carrying.

"Over here," said Arzei, nodding towards the nearest wagon. "Woltar's and my trunks are already in it." The captain grunted again in recognition, then packed his trunk carefully in with the others. At least if his was in the same wagon as the king's luggage, it was less likely to be tampered with – hopefully.

Returning to the two men he muttered doubtfully, "Are we leaving soon?" as he eyed Count Noppen berating a servant for dropping a box of writing supplies. "What's the order of march?"

"Fairly soon," Woltar replied. "Your Black Brigade squad will be the vanguard, so go ahead and start out as soon as you're ready. Arzei and his personal guard will come next, then the courtiers and the ambassadors. Maybe if they see us starting to ride out, they'll stop bickering for fear they might be left behind." He laughed shortly. "The Storm Brigade will guard the sides and the rear of the column."

"We've already sent a knight of the Dragon Brigade to advise the queen of our coming," the king added.

The slim warrior nodded and started for the cluster of Black Brigade soldiers nearest the gates. The squad's lum were already saddled, so he swung up into the seat of his mount and gave the order to move out. As the gates creaked open, Woltar shouted at him, and the young man looked back.

"Albel! Don't forget!"

Rolling his eyes, Albel grimaced at the old man. _As if I could. _Reluctantly he nodded and waved acknowledgement, and rode out through the streets of Airyglyph at the head of his squad. This was going to be a _very_ long trip.

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Well, there you go. Next chapter, we will see what Nel's up to, and Albel will hopefully get to beat up some monsters. Let's try for an update within another two weeks again, around October 7th. Please review! Constructive criticism is welcomed.


	3. Queens and Monsters

**Disclaimer: **If you're looking for this story's disclaimer, please refer to Chapter One.

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**(October 7, 2005) **Well, this chapter _was_ going to include Kirlsa, but it just didn't turn out that way. At least now I know what's coming up in the next chapter! Thanks to Regrem Erutaerc for some really useful ideas for this chapter – you'll see that I did use some of them, though maybe not the way you think! Oh, and alnel4life - I did try to use the chain-line design between breaks, but it didn't work for me...maybe doesn't like my internet browser or something...

I was in such a hurry to meet my deadline (and I procrastinated so much), that I didn't get this chapter beta'd yet. If I make changes later, I'll repost it. Speaking of deadlines, I think maybe I won't give myself one for chapter 4 just yet, since they don't seem to be working out. Don't worry – I still plan to have chapter 4 out before the end of the month, I just don't want to put a specific date on it. Plus, someone or something sicced a whole tribe of rabid plot bunnies on me, and it may take awhile for me to hunt them all down.

And now, witness the horror of my un-beta'd chapter!

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**(October 14, 2005) **I finally updated this to the beta'd version. There are no really plot-changing differences, but it should read a lot better now. Please feel free to re-read and see if you like the changes! Thanks hugely to Lucrecia LeVrai for putting up with me! Whew, I feel a lot better now that my first battle scene is behind me. Even if it _was_ kind of like Don Quixote and his windmills… ;)

To address lady-warrioress's question of Albel's left arm, or lack thereof – in the game's dictionary, in the second entry for Albel Nox I believe, it mentions that he actually lost his arm, though it doesn't specify exactly how _much_ of his arm was lost… For the purposes of my story, Albel did lose almost his entire arm in the Accession of the Flame ceremony, and he replaced it with a false one. I plan to address the mechanics of his false arm at various points in the story where it fits in – most likely there will be a scene about it when they get to Aquios and have the wedding (which should end up being in chapter 5 or 6 unless I get really long-winded :) ).

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The Nature of Strength

By: BlueTrillium

Chapter 3: Queens and Monsters

She had never seen the halls of Aquios Castle so busy, Nel Zelpher mused as she made her way to the throne room. The reason, of course, was that preparations for the wedding of the king of Airyglyph to the high priestess's daughter were finally underway. True, the wedding would not take place for at least two more months, but a wedding apparently took a lot of planning – a royal wedding, even more so. Nel shrugged inwardly at the thought. All she needed, or cared, to know about the wedding was the security plan. _And how to keep out of everyone's way, _she added mentally, dodging a frantic maid balancing several bolts of cloth. Reaching the massive doors of the audience chamber, she bowed slightly to the guard outside as he opened the way for her.

Inside, the difference was startling. As the doors slowly swung shut, the noisy bustle was suddenly cut off, leaving only the sharp sounds of her boots striking the floor as she approached the throne.

"Your Majesty," the Crimson Blade went to one knee at the foot of the steps.

"Lady Nel," Queen Romeria acknowledged. "Please, rise."

The head of the Secret Legion rose to her feet, absently noting that it still seemed odd to have an audience with the queen without Magistrate Lasselle present. A welcome difference, but still odd.

"We have just received word via dragon messenger that the peace treaty has at last been completed." Nel nodded. It would have been hard to miss the sight of the air dragon landing in the courtyard. "His Majesty King Airyglyph XIII and his court set out from Airyglyph City two days ago. It is our command that you should ride out to meet them, and join them as part of their escort here, to show a united front to the people."

"As you wish, Your Majesty. Is anyone to accompany me?"

"None at first. However Clair, Tynave, and Farleen will join you as the column passes through Arias. We must show unity, but we must also show trust. We must not make it appear that our people need protection from them."

"Understood, Your Majesty." Nel bowed.

"Go with the blessings of Apris, Lady Nel. This peace is important to all of us." The Crimson Blade understood the subtle reminder. For all that she was a spy, the people of Aquaria knew she was the representative of the queen, and her actions would reflect upon the peace. Nel knew her responsibilities.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. Apris keep you as well." Mouth twisting a little with the irony of calling on a deity she could no longer believe in, Nel straightened and left, already planning her trip. If she traveled light and switched lum often, she should be able to easily meet with the king's column at Kirlsa.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Albel was bored. The ridiculous amount of fuss raised by the caravan seemed to scare most of the monsters away, and the few that did attack were disposed of so quickly that most of the civilians didn't even know there had been any attacks at all. Albel hadn't gotten to dispatch a single one, and that, combined with the maddeningly slow pace, was grating on the captain's temper.

After several days of this, he couldn't take it any longer. Abruptly he reined in his lum. The members of his squad paused and looked curiously at him.

"I'm taking you and you" he pointed "to scout the road ahead. Squad leader, you're in command until I return." Before the soldiers even finished saluting, he was gone, the two men scrambling to follow.

Once out of sight of the rest of the entourage, Albel slowed his pace and allowed the other two to catch up. Much as he would have preferred to scout by himself, strategy demanded that he not go alone, in case he encountered some danger that required him to send someone back to the caravan to warn them while he held off the threat. Two men were the fewest he felt he could get away with and not be reprimanded by Woltar later.

Up ahead was an area of the mountains where Albel recalled often finding congregations of venomous pines: deceptive monsters that disguised themselves as trees. Approaching the vicinity, he dismounted, tethering his lum to some nearby scrub. The two men followed his lead. He gestured his soldiers into silence as they neared the dip in the trail. They topped the last rise, only to find nothing. "Damn," Albel muttered before he could stop himself.

"Sir?" one of his men questioned.

Albel ignored him for a moment while he contemplated his options. It had already been mid-afternoon when they left the column, and now it was getting close to sunset. Inwardly he cursed again. His squad had the first guard shift that night; he had to get back before nightfall. Letting out an explosive sigh, the lean swordsman gestured back the way they had come. "Looks like the trail is clear. We have to be getting back. Let's go –"

Even as he finished speaking, an object plummeted to the ground between them and exploded, throwing all three men to the ground. Immediately, Albel got back to his feet, katana unsheathed. He scanned the cliff top for the source of the attack. Squinting against the stark contrast between the sun's glare behind the rocks and the black shadows cast by the rocks themselves, he thought he could make out the waving silhouettes of what looked like branches. A maniacal grin crossed his face for a moment. It looked like the scouting trip wasn't going to be a total waste, after all.

Another projectile shot out over the edge of the cliff toward them, followed closely by two more. Glancing over at his men, the young captain saw that they had finally regained their feet and were looking to him for orders. They seemed uninjured. Drawing on his knowledge of the mountains around the trail, Albel batted the first bomb with his sword down the side of the mountain and shouted, "There should be a side path back near where we left the lum – it goes up to the top of that cliff. Find it and try to get behind them. I'll climb up from here." They seemed to hesitate for a moment. "_Go!_"

Dodging the other bombs, the knight didn't see his subordinates leave, but when he checked again, they were gone. _Finally,_ he thought. Reaching the base of the cliff, Albel sheathed his sword and started to climb. The venomous pines seemed confused by the disappearance of their prey – he could hear some shuffling and scraping sounds as they apparently milled about. Taking advantage of the momentary reprieve, the slim warrior climbed as fast as he could with the shadows hiding the handholds. He couldn't be silent though, not with his claw and the metal parts of his boots clanging against the rocks, and soon a veritable rain of the small bombs showered down.

Fortunately, most of the projectiles fell far enough out from the cliff that they missed Albel as he continued to struggle upward. Gritting his teeth, he tried to ignore the impacts on his shoulders and back as he reached for a hold near the top of the cliff. Lunging for it, he realized too late that the hold was not really there; it was a trick of the shadows. In a spray of rock dust, he slid down a few feet before he caught himself.

Suddenly the hail of bombs stopped, and Albel could hear shouts coming from the top of the cliff. His men. "Maggots," he muttered. He had wanted to get there first. Grunting with the effort, he pulled himself to the top of the cliff.

He was confronted with the sight of five of the mobile trees surrounding his two men, who were standing back-to-back, swords raised, as the vines lashed out at them. He had to admit, they were doing a good job of defending themselves, but defense alone would get them nowhere. Once again unsheathing the Crimson Scourge, Albel moved closer to the group, enjoying the surge of adrenaline that came with the prospect of a fight at last. Then, "Attack, you fools!" he shouted, slashing horizontally at the trunk of the nearest tree, nearly cutting it in half. He finished it off with another slash, severing it completely, then attacked a second venomous pine before it could react. Several branches fell to the ground, accompanied by Albel's mocking laughter. "Too easy," he taunted.

Enraged, the pine swung another of its branches at him. The young man dodged the blow, then grasped the branch as it continued past him, allowing its pull to swing him out of the way as another tree's vines lashed the place where he had just been. Out of harm's way, he quickly cut through the branch he was swinging from and dropped lightly to the ground, dropping the piece of now-dead wood. "Maggot. You'll have to do better than that."

A slight rumble warned him of the injured tree's next attack, and he quickly leaped aside as dozens of roots shot skyward from the churned-up earth. As soon as the roots began to subside, he dashed between them and stabbed his sword through the trunk. Groaning, the monster collapsed, taking Albel's sword with it. _Careless fool, _he berated himself. _Should have seen that coming._

As he approached the katana to retrieve it, there was a rustle in the dead tree's branches, and two pit tarantulas leaped out at him. With his claw-arm, he swept one forcibly to the side, smashing it against the tree trunk with a satisfying splat, but the remaining spider latched on to his other shoulder, fangs biting down into his arm. The young knight grunted in surprise, then angrily snatched it with his claw and heaved it far out over the edge of the cliff.

Turning back to the trunk that had trapped his sword, he wrenched it out of the wood. Three of the venomous pine were left, and possibly some more pit tarantulas. A wild grin crossed Albel's face; it was almost like old times. He laughed. "Come and get me, you fools!"

Two of the trees were advancing, trying to pin him between them. Ignoring his bleeding arm, he leapt quickly on top of the fallen tree, and then leapt again to a precarious perch in the branches at the top of one of the monsters trying to trap him. Hanging on as it thrashed around trying to dislodge him, he drove the Crimson Scourge down into the center, swiftly drawing it back before it could be trapped again.

Mortally wounded, the venomous pine whipped its branches around in a frenzy. Albel lost his grip and was flung backward into the trunk of the other mobile tree, its rough bark digging furrows into his back as he slid down. A bit dizzy, Albel forced himself to his feet and stumbled away from the pine, half-expecting Fayt or Nel to appear and heal him, even though he didn't really need it. Was that something red coming toward him? _Nel?_

Shaking his head violently, he pulled his wits together enough to recognize that the object flying towards him was actually another one of the bombs, and he brought his sword up to slice it in half. _Fool, _he berated himself, _that time is past._

The venomous pine slung another projectile, advancing upon him. Again Albel swung his sword, but this time, he hit the bomb back at the tree. Exploding, it set a couple branches on fire. This seemed to cause the pine some confusion, and it paused. Taking advantage, the captain approached the monster, katana ready – suddenly, the tree jerked to the side as another sword slashed at its trunk. "Captain!" The young warrior nodded acknowledgement as the two knights joined him.

Methodically, the three men surrounded the pine and lopped off every branch and vine that attacked them, until at last the monster looked more like a stubby candelabra than a tree. Albel moved in for the kill, but leaped back when another pit tarantula emerged from the flaming crown and fell to the ground. The lean swordsman dispatched it with one quick slash, then finished off the pine.

When nothing else immediately attacked, he looked around. The fifth tree was already severely wounded, apparently taken down by his men while Albel was fighting the first three. The captain snorted and walked over to finish the pine off. Coming up behind the monster, he remedied the situation in three quick blows. He made a mental note to toughen up the training regimen when the trip was over and they returned to Airyglyph.

As the last venomous pine collapsed, he started back toward his men, but was forced to stop and lean against one of the fallen trees as the dizziness returned with a vengeance. Hazily he realized that he must have been poisoned when the pit tarantula bit him. He reached over his shoulder for his pack, and only then realized that the packs had been left with the lum. Cursing, he forced the dizziness aside and reluctantly used antidote runology instead, sealing the wounds on his back and arm as an afterthought.

His men were staring at him in shock. "Captain, where did you learn –?"

"– Forget it," Albel interrupted. He surveyed the devastation. Branches and vines were strewn everywhere, and the massive trunks were distributed haphazardly like a child's toys. The pine that had been on fire slowly guttered out as he watched. "Might as well get some use out of these. The column should be setting up camp by now. You two! Collect as much firewood as you can carry down to the lum in one trip. Watch out for more of those spiders."

As the two men obeyed, Albel examined his sword. It was not a pretty sight. The blade was coated with sap and pine tar, with bits of bark, leaves, and dirt sticking to it. He scraped it off as best he could, but most of the sticky mess remained. He sighed in exasperation. He wouldn't be able to sheathe the sword until he cleaned it, and he wouldn't be able to clean the sword properly until he got back to camp. Resigned to carrying the katana unsheathed all the way back, he gathered some firewood with his claw and, once his men rejoined him with their own loads, started back down the path to the lum.

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Before you ask – yes, Albel knows some basic runology in this fic. He doesn't like it very much, though. However, he's not about to turn down a weapon when it's available. Anyway, please read and review!


	4. Reunion

**Disclaimer: **If you're looking for this story's disclaimer, please refer to Chapter One.

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**(October 31, 2005) **For those who have not checked it out already, the changes to Chapter Three have been posted! Actually, they've been posted for a while, but I don't think the website sent out notifications of when it happened… Anyway, please go read the new version if you haven't already done so. Tremendous thanks are due to Lucrecia LeVrai for all her help in getting it revised.

There was originally quite a bit more to this chapter – so much so in fact, that I decided to split it into two chapters. On the minus side, this means you won't get all the Kirlsa events in this chapter. On the plus side, the next chapter ought to come out relatively quickly since it's partially written already. Let's aim for the neighborhood of November 8th for Chapter Five! Well, that might be pushing it, so don't be _too_ surprised if it's a day or two late…

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**(November 7, 2005)** I have made some slight modifications here to correct some OOC-ness on Albel's part… We (Lucrecia and I) decided that he's not really likely to _plan_ what to say ahead of time.

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The Nature of Strength

By: BlueTrillium

Chapter 4: Reunion

It was well into the afternoon by the time Nel trudged into Kirlsa on foot, her lum limping behind her dispiritedly. "Not far now, girl," she comforted as the animal nosed her gently in the back. Sighting the livery stable just inside the gate, she led the weary beast inside and handed its reins to the man on duty.

"Difficult journey, ma'am?" the hostler asked sympathetically, petting the lum's nose as Nel pulled off the saddlebags.

The red-haired woman shook her head. "No monster troubles, but I'd been riding fast for several days without much rest, and then she lost a shoe two miles before we got here. It's taken a lot out of her. But she's got a lot of heart – didn't balk on me once. Take good care of her."

"That I will, ma'am."

"Can you tell me, is Count Woltar in town?" she asked casually, slinging her packs over her shoulder.

The man glanced at her appraisingly. "Courier, eh?" Nel shrugged; it was a reasonable assumption that she didn't feel the need to correct. "The count hasn't returned yet from the peace talks. We're expecting him any day, though."

"Thanks," she replied, handing him a few coins.

"A pleasure, ma'am." He tipped his hat, then led the lum away as Nel nodded and left.

Once outside, the Crimson Blade followed the streets toward the west end of town. People bustled past her in all directions as they ran errands or returned to their homes after a day of work. Passing the gates of Woltar's mansion, she could see that the hostler had been right – the grounds were nearly empty, with only a few Storm Brigade soldiers standing guard. Nel sighed. It could be several days before the column arrived, if there was bad weather in the mountains. Hopefully she wouldn't have to cool her heels that long. She shook her head. Her first task was to contact Astor. He might have some more information for her.

Continuing on, Nel passed the tavern and the grocer's store before turning left onto the street that held the inn and several residences, including Astor's. She saw his curtains twitch as she approached the door, and before she could knock, it was opened by a comely young woman in gray robes. The Aquarian spy recognized her as Rena, another informant for Aquaria.

"Oh, Lady Nel! What a surprise – I thought you were in Aquios!" the dark-haired woman exclaimed.

"I've got a new assignment, Rena. Is Astor home?" Nel asked.

"Yes, he is. Please come in," she moved aside, holding the door open. "He should be down in a moment – he's upstairs with Lyndi."

"Lyndi?" the Crimson Blade questioned as she entered the living area. "Who –"

"Astor can tell you. See, he's coming now. I'd best get to work on dinner," Rena said, disappearing into the kitchen.

Nel turned back towards the stairs in time to see Astor reaching the bottom.

"Lady Nel, good to see you," he greeted her warmly. "Have you come about the peace talks?"

"Yes, I've been sent to become part of their escort to Aquios now that the treaty negotiations are finished. I thought I'd check in with you to see when they're expected to get here, and get any other information you might have to pass on."

"Actually, the weather's been so clement the past several days, I was expecting them to arrive yesterday. They could come in any time now. As for other information – well," he looked apologetic "I haven't been able to gather much. You see –"

"Astor?" a new woman's voice came from the stairway.

"Lyndi, come down and meet Lady Nel," Astor beckoned. "Lady Nel, this is my sister-in-law, Lyndi. She was widowed when those celestial ships attacked at the end of the war, and she and her children are living with me now. Rena also stays here to help out."

The young blonde woman extended her hand. "Welcome, Lady Nel."

Nel returned the handshake sincerely. "I am sorry for your loss." She shook her head. "So many died that day… If you should need any aid, have Astor contact me."

"Thank you, Lady Nel –"

Suddenly the front door flew open, and three blonde children sailed into the house. "Mama, we're back!" they chorused, then fell silent as they noticed the red-haired woman. "Who's that?" ventured the tallest.

"Kids, this is Lady Nel. She's come to visit Astor. Be polite, now."

Subdued, the young ones nodded respectfully as their mother introduced them to Nel. A minute later, Rena appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Dinner's ready!" Immediately brightening, the children rushed past the dark-haired informant to the dining table, shouting enthusiastic greetings to her as they passed. "Lady Nel, I set a place for you, if you don't mind," she continued.

Grinning at the young ones' antics, Nel replied, "Not at all. I would be glad to join you."

Astor gestured for Lyndi to go in before them and drew the Crimson Blade aside for a moment. "Lady Nel, of course you're welcome to join us for dinner, but if you were planning to stay the night, I'm afraid there's not much room…"

"I understand. It's quite all right; I'm planning to stay at the inn."

Dinner at Astor's was a rowdy affair. The children quickly got used to her presence, and soon questions and stories about their adventures that day were flying back and forth. Nel watched in bemused silence for the most part; she would never have thought of Astor as being good with children, but seeing him laughing along with Lyndi and the young ones…he looked right at home. She sighed. People had given up so much during the war; hopefully this new peace would allow them to get some of it back. She would do whatever she could to make it possible.

At the end of the meal, the sounds of a commotion outside abruptly drowned out the table conversation. The young ones all rushed to the window, with the adults not far behind. Filling the street was a milling mass of people and lum-drawn wagons, which appeared to be converging on the inn.

"Well, it would appear that Count Woltar and the ambassadors have finally arrived… I don't think you're going to find space at the inn tonight, Lady Nel," Astor commented.

"Astor, surely there's some way she could stay with us? If the children slept on the floor –" Lyndi offered.

"No, I won't put people out of their beds," Nel refused gently. She smiled. "I know of another place I can stay; don't worry about me. I stayed there quite often during the war."

"If you're certain…"

"I'm sure. But I thank you for the generous offer."

"All right, then. Kids, let's clean up the table now…let's help Rena…" Lyndi returned to the table where Rena was already stacking dishes, drawing the children with her.

Astor followed Nel as she left the kitchen area and went to pick up her bags by the door. "So you're leaving already, then?" he asked.

She nodded. "If I'm to present myself as escort to the king and Count Woltar before the household settles down for the night, I need to get there soon. It's already starting to get dark."

"Count Woltar's – you're not planning on staying there, are you? If the inn is so full, I'm sure that the count's mansion will be full, too."

"No, I was talking about another place. I used to stay there when it would have drawn too much attention to come here. I'll be fine."

Astor bowed his head and went to hold the front door for her. "Good luck then, Lady Nel. Come back to visit us some time when you can stay longer."

"And when the inn's not so busy," she quipped, one corner of her mouth turning up.

His own lips twitched upward in response. "And when the inn's not so busy," he agreed. "It was good to see you again."

"Likewise." Nel clapped his shoulder as she walked out the door. "Don't forget to let me know if you need anything. Or if I'm not available, contact Clair."

"I will."

Pulling up the hood of her cloak against the evening's chill, the Crimson Blade waved goodbye, then began to retrace her earlier path back to Woltar's estate as she heard Astor close the door behind her.

The streets of Kirlsa were quieter now, with the travelers settled in to the inn and most of the citizens home at their dinners, and Nel made good time getting to the gates that opened on Woltar's property.

Confidently, she walked up to the two guards. "I am here to speak with King Airyglyph, or Count Woltar if the king is not available."

The guards did not move. "Identify yourself."

Nel was surprised; she had not had any difficulty with the count's guards since the war ended. Maybe the guards were new; they _did _look very young. She lowered her hood. "I am Nel Zelpher, Crimson Blade to Queen Aquaria XXVII."

The one on the right checked a list, then looked up. "I'm sorry ma'am, we were ordered not to allow anyone to enter except those who were traveling with the ambassadors." The left guard shifted uncomfortably. It was clear these two were not used to being ordered to turn people away.

"I am certain the king would want to speak with me if he knew I was here. Can someone run a message to him and let him know?"

The guards looked even more uncomfortable. "The king and the count are both in a meeting with some of the ambassadors and can not be disturbed."

Nel sighed explosively. This was not a problem she had foreseen. Courtesy demanded that she let them know _tonight _that she would be joining them when they left tomorrow, so that her presence could be planned for. She _could _use her old spying skills to sneak into the mansion easily, but that would be a poor display of peacetime diplomacy. Since the meeting involved the ambassadors, Lasselle was likely to be unavailable as well, and she didn't know any of the other Aquarian ambassadors by name. She curbed her impatience. There was only one person left to try. "Well then, Sir Albel Nox should be able to vouch for me. Could you send a message to _him_?"

"We could, ma'am, but he has left the mansion. I believe he may have gone to the tavern. At least, he appeared to be heading in that direction."

Nel bowed curtly and raised her hood once again. "Thank you."

oOoOoOoOoOo

"…It's all Aquaria's fault, you know. If those celestial ships hadn't come and messed everything up, we would have won by now; none of these pathetic 'peace talks' and 'negotiations' and caving in to Aquaria's demands…"

Albel growled inwardly. This was _not _what he had planned when he had abandoned the noisy mob of nobles at Woltar's mansion. The count's orders about helping the peace hadn't even crossed his mind, but he had not gotten to sit down with his cider for more than a moment before this old man had essentially cornered him. Obviously this was exactly the sort of situation they had meant for him to deal with, but so far Albel had not managed to get a word in edgewise. The urge to strangle the incessant old coot was rising rapidly.

"…Sir Albel, I would have thought _you_ at least would have talked some sense into the king. I think you should…"

Of course, strangling one of his own countrymen would hardly be helpful to the peace, and so Albel gritted his teeth and waited for an opening. The old man seemed to be winding down a bit…

"…Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

Scraping together all the positive comments he had heard about the peace, Albel seized his opportunity. "You need to understand how important this peace is to Airyglyph. We are _not_ 'caving in to Aquaria's demands'." The man opened his mouth to protest, but the knight overrode him. "Think about it. What were we fighting for? We needed resources for our industry, food for our people. Certainly, conquering Aquaria would have accomplished that, but at what cost? Do you _want_ more of Airyglyph's citizens to die trying to take something when there is another way to get it?"

Some of the other occupants of the tavern drew a bit nearer, clearly interested in the debate. Another person entered and sat at the bar while the old man spluttered. "But, but how can we trust them? They may just be biding their time, waiting, maybe building another weapon – and then they'll attack us as soon as it's ready!"

These were questions Albel knew how to answer. "As for them building another weapon: they aren't. If they were, we would know. We found out about the other weapon, did we not? Also, keep in mind that their high priestess's daughter is marrying our king. It hardly seems likely that they would target a weapon on us when there is a risk they might harm one of their own."

The young swordsman paused for a moment to gauge the response he was getting. The old man and his fellow tavern-goers seemed to be listening for now, but he knew he had to continue quickly, before one of them asked a question he couldn't answer.

"As for trust – surely we can at least show as much trust for Aquaria as they have shown for us? For these negotiations, they sent their ambassadors all the way to Airyglyph rather than meeting some place neutral. They trusted us not to harm them. And earlier, you may have heard how the king met with Aquaria's queen in the ruins at Mosel to address the threat of the celestial ships. Queen Aquaria was attacked on her way there by renegade Dragon Brigade troops, but she still trusted us enough to continue on to the meeting. Honor demands that we place the same amount of trust in them." There. He had appealed to their pride. Hopefully that would be enough.

"But you, Sir Albel," spoke up one of the men at a nearby table. "Why do _you_ trust them?"

Albel hesitated, improvising rapidly. What could he say to make them understand?

"Well, I have had to work with Aquarians before. You might know that I was part of the mission to obtain Crosell's aid against the celestial ships? That mission included Aquarians. And after that, I went with the same group on another mission to stop the source of the celestial ships." Awkward, and not entirely true, but he could hardly tell them about 4D space and going up against the creator. "There were quite a few battles on those missions, and we were forced to work together. They saved my life, multiple times. And I saved theirs."

He glanced around. They didn't seem completely convinced. What else could he do? Glou's voice echoed in his memory. _Sometimes, people have to _see_ something to believe in it. _But what could he _show_ them that could change their minds? Maybe…

"If you need proof, I have some right here." Reluctantly peeling up the hem of his shirt a few inches, he showed them his side and the massive burn scar that was still visible there, and then turned so they could see the matching scar on his back. "One of those people from the celestial ship used some kind of beam weapon on me – it went right through me. I would have died if they hadn't helped me." Though the wound was the better part of a year old and didn't bother him any more, the scar was still livid. Apparently it was dramatic enough to convince them, or at least get them thinking, for they murmured to each other and did not protest when he drained his cider and left the tavern. The person at the bar got up and followed him out.

As soon as the two were well away from the tavern, Albel turned and muttered, "All right, Zelpher. What are you doing here?"

Nel shrugged. She had suspected he would recognize her – in fact, she had deliberately allowed her daggers to show outside of her cloak with just that in mind. "I have received an assignment from Her Majesty to join the king's escort to Aquios. I was going to see the king to notify him of my presence, but the guards would not let me in without someone to vouch for me. Apparently you were the only official not in a meeting, so they pointed me in this direction, and here I am."

"I suppose you heard that conversation in there."

"Yeah."

"What, no comments?" he smirked.

"I think you did pretty well."

_Huh? _He hadn't expected a compliment. He hid his surprise, though, and said, "Whatever. I hate to destroy your plans, but if you were counting on staying at the old coot's place, there're no rooms left."

Nel chose to ignore the sarcasm. "I have another place to stay." She changed the subject. "Look, it's getting late. Would you just tell the king and Count Woltar to expect me to join them tomorrow morning?"

"What? I'm not your messenger boy. Tell them yourself," he snarled, crossing his arms.

She mimicked his pose. "What? Do you _want_ the guards to see you coming in to the mansion with me so late? They might start rumors…"

He scoffed, but she did make some sense. "…Fine, wench. I'll tell them to expect you in the morning," he said grudgingly.

"Thank you." She hesitated, adding, "It's good to see you're doing well, Albel," and then walked away, soon disappearing in the shadows.

Albel watched her go for a moment, silent. Then, "Bah," he grumbled, and continued on to Woltar's mansion.

------------------------------

Well, can you guess what this 'other place' is, where Nel is planning to stay? You probably can, though I'll give you the hint that it's not a place you could go to in the game, and that it _is _in Kirlsa. At any rate, you'll find out soon, in Chapter Five…

On a side-note, check out my profile for the link to my new deviantART page (I'm BlueTrillium there, too). I've got a picture there that may end up being a scene in this fic! (It would be quite a ways in the future, though.) There's also a short comic I threw together in the 'scraps' area that's Albel/Nel-ish, and some drawings based off of some other fics I've read are in the gallery. Also, if anyone else here has a deviantART page (or any art on the web) you want me to look at, please let me know! I'll be glad to check it out.


	5. You Could Have Asked

**Disclaimer: **If you're looking for this story's disclaimer, please refer to Chapter One.

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**(November 15, 2005) **I know this chapter is coming out quite a bit later than planned…first some nasty glitch or something ate most of the chapter so I had to rewrite it from my outline – I didn't even get this _to _beta until well after the 8th…And then she also had computer difficulties, much worse than mine, going on.

But, it's here now, and that's what matters. Hopefully you'll think it was worth the wait. :) And say 'thank you' to Lucrecia LeVrai for the idea that sparked this chapter!

Some slight changes have been made to the tavern conversation in Chapter 4, since Albel seemed a little out-of-character…he doesn't seem the sort to actually _plan_ what to say ahead of time…but he still ends up saying the same things, so it's not a big change. If you thought he was OOC too, I invite you to check out the changes and see if you think he's less OOC now.

As for the next chapter, I'm a bit stalled, so I don't know what to tell you right now. When I've got a specific date in mind, I'll update it to my profile. I'd guess I'll need about three weeks.

------------------------------

The Nature of Strength  
By: BlueTrillium

Chapter 5: You Could Have Asked

The shadows slowly thickened as Albel made his way back to Woltar's gates. The lean knight noted and ignored them as the back of his mind wrestled with what Nel had said.

…'_good to see you're doing well'? _What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did she expect him to be doing badly? Or was she commenting somehow on what he had said in the tavern? But no, she'd already given her opinion on that…Why couldn't women just say what they mean directly?

"Sir." The guards greeted him at the gate as they opened it for him. He passed through with barely a nod in their direction, and continued on to the count's study.

At the top of the stairs he shook his head. _Why am I worrying about this, anyway?_ he thought, and pushed it from his mind as he pushed open Woltar's door.

The old man momentarily glanced up from his paperwork as the captain entered. "Ah, Albel. Good. I needed to talk to you –"

"The Aquarian wench will be joining us when we leave tomorrow," Albel interrupted, wanting to get his messenger task over with.

The count continued, unperturbed. "Yes, Lady Nel Zelpher, correct?" The old man nodded to himself. "That would explain why she wanted to enter earlier – the guards reported it after the meeting. I've already left orders that she be allowed to enter whenever she returns." Woltar looked up. "But that's not what I needed to talk to you about. I wanted to warn you that if you intend to stay here tonight, you'll have to share. Even with the inn taking the overflow, the nobles here are packed at least two to a room, including yours." He paused, then added delicately, "Many of the troops that have homes in Kirlsa are staying there; I thought you could…"

Albel knew where this was heading. "All right, old man, I'll go." He didn't really want to share a room with a couple fussy nobles anyway.

"Thank you, my boy."

"Hmph." Albel left, leaving Woltar muttering about arranging an extra lum for Nel in the morning.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Standing in the middle of Kirlsa's cemetery, Nel was glad she wasn't superstitious. The high walls and buildings surrounding the area kept it in shaded gloom for most of the day, but now with the sun all but gone, it was very dark indeed. A stray black feline perched on top of a nearby tombstone twitched its tails as she passed before leaping away towards the ruined temple.

The cloaked woman continued to the far corner of the plot, where the back wall neared the side of the neighboring mansion. The Nox mansion.

With scarcely a pause to look around, she grasped the top of the wall and pulled herself up, then reached upward again for the ledge of a second-story window, using the building's rough stone to aid her ascent. Clinging to the frame, Nel paused a moment. The windows were all sturdy, and securely fastened on the inside, but they weren't her goal. Moving again, she continued up the wall, following the route from handhold to handhold that she had put together over the last few years, past another rank of windows, until finally she reached the level of the roof. The bricks of a chimney jutted out from the wall, giving her a path out from under the eaves and onto the top of the house. Crouching low to avoid making a distinctive silhouette, she made her way to the roof's trapdoor, pried it open, and lightly dropped inside, closing it behind her.

It was interesting, she reflected, how no one seemed to think of their emergency _exits_ as possible _entrances_. Of course, they couldn't do anything too complicated to keep them shut, or that would rather negate the purpose of being able to get out quickly in an emergency. She shrugged. Three years ago, she'd just been grateful to find a way in.

_The clanking of metal boots striking the cobbles echoed down the street as Nel darted into the cemetery and hid behind a tombstone, forcing herself to breathe quietly._

"_I think I saw something move in the cemetery!" a male voice called._

"_Check it out," another voice replied. "That spy has to be around here somewhere."_

_The Crimson Blade silently cursed her bad luck. If only Count Woltar hadn't chosen precisely the worst moment to fetch some papers from his study, she wouldn't be in this position. She couldn't stay here, and she couldn't go out the entrance to the cemetery without being caught. Staying as low as possible, she made her way to the back of the graveyard, and then pulled herself up onto the wall where she would be hidden in the deep shade cast by the Nox mansion. Unfortunately, she saw that the area on the other side of the wall led absolutely nowhere – it was essentially an alley walled in on all four sides. She couldn't escape that way. She looked up at the building next to her. She knew Sir Albel was in his mansion – she had been spying on him earlier – but there was no other way._

_Praying to Apris that the Black Brigade captain would not look out a window at an inopportune moment, the spy found the best holds she could and scaled the wall, carefully keeping to the shadows. Once tucked into the corner formed where the eaves met the side of the chimney, she braced herself and considered her options. She had to move on – there was no way she could maintain her grasp on the side of the house for the rest of the night, and judging from the shouting of the guards, things weren't going to settle down enough for her to climb back down any time soon._

_Reluctantly, she swung up onto the moonlit brightness of the roof with the aid of the chimney. It had been overcast earlier that night, but the sky had since cleared, and the moon was nearly full. Knowing that at any moment a guard on the city walls could look over and see her illuminated against the roof, she cast about for the emergency escape trapdoor most homes had. Finding it thankfully quickly, she used her daggers to pry it up, and let herself in._

_But now she was essentially trapped in the home of her enemy. She had to find some place where she could evade detection until the guards outside gave up, _and _avoid 'Sir Albel the Wicked' at the same time. One thing was certain: she couldn't stay out in the open hallway the trapdoor had dropped her into._

_Noiselessly trying each door as she came to it, she found that they were all locked. Not wanting to take the time to try and pick a lock, she continued down the corridor until she reached the top of a staircase leading down. She paused and listened intently for a moment; hearing no movement on the floor below, she went down the stairs only to find another corridor lined with closed doors. Light seeped out from under the door nearest her. She edged past it and was reaching for the doorknob when she heard footsteps from the lighted room, approaching the door. Frantically Nel grasped the knob she had been reaching for and turned it – it was open! She flung herself inside and closed the door behind her as silently as she could, flattening herself against the wall where she would be hidden behind the door if someone entered. Moments later, she heard another door open and close out in the hallway, and the sound of footsteps passing her by._

_Catching her breath in relief, she finally took the time to look around at her temporary new sanctuary…_

Now, standing in that same passageway under the trapdoor, she smiled at the memory. If it hadn't been for that experience, she would never have thought of the Nox mansion as a possible hiding place.

Slowly, she made her way through the darkness to the stairs, and went down to the second floor. The Noxes (of which Albel was the only surviving immediate family member, though he may have some cousins somewhere) hired people to come in and maintain the mansion weekly, so there was very little dust. Albel visited very rarely, and had guests even less often, but there was still one bedroom that was used least of all, and that was where Nel was headed.

Arriving at the door she wanted, the Crimson Blade turned the knob and opened it silently. It was the same room she had stumbled into on that night three years past. In all the times she had been here, she had never seen anyone in this room, or any sign that it was ever entered except to be cleaned, but it never hurt to be cautious.

An empty room met her gaze, and gratefully she placed her pack on the floor near the bed. She made sure that the window shutters were latched, then closed the drapes to make sure no light would show outside before igniting a lamp and getting ready to sleep.

The room had clearly belonged to a younger Albel – a painting of a fierce air dragon covered an entire wall, and a rack of katanas of various lengths stood near the window. Some low shelves under the dragon painting held various keepsakes: toy soldiers and interestingly-shaped or –colored rocks, mostly, along with other odds and ends. The single bed, with its side table and lamp, was by the window, and a wardrobe loomed near the door. What had briefly surprised Nel the first time she had come here was that the whole remaining wall was lined with bookshelves. It made sense, though. After all, Albel was noble, and therefore educated; and no one could ever say he wasn't intelligent.

Sometimes Nel wondered what had happened to the boy that had once played with those toy soldiers…and then, every time, her eyes would travel to the dragon on the wall, and she knew.

Impatiently brushing aside the faint feeling of loss, Nel returned to the task at hand. No matter what that dragon had come to symbolize for Albel, it had always meant safety for her. She had never yet been caught here, and while she knew the painting couldn't have had anything to do with it, she had always felt protected here. She smiled at the irony of finding such a place in the home of her enemy – _former _enemy, she corrected herself – then climbed into the bed and blew out the lamp.

oOoOoOoOoOo

It was almost full dark by the time Albel arrived at his family's mansion, and he wasted no time in hurrying up to the master bedroom.

Lighting the lamp on the bedside table, Albel was struck all over again by the lack of personality in the room. There were no paintings, no books, none of the little things that would tell someone 'this room is lived in'. After his failed Accession of the Flame, Albel had been taken to Woltar's mansion to have his wounds treated, and by the time he had returned here, his father's room – _this_ room – had been cleaned so thoroughly that not a trace of its former occupant remained.

Albel still hadn't decided if that had been a favor or a disservice.

But there was no way he could bring himself to stay in his old room back then – not when its window looked out on the cemetery, not with the fierce dragon on the wall waiting for the opportunity to finish the job its brethren had begun… And after all, as many of the nobles at court made sure to remind him, he _was _the head of the Nox family now.

The end result was that whenever he stayed at the family mansion, he used the master bedroom. The visits were so infrequent that the room had never gotten the chance to absorb some personality; never felt like 'home'.

It wasn't Glou's place any more, but sometimes Albel wondered when it would ever be his.

Albel changed for bed, trying in vain to slow his thoughts, but his mind kept moving from remembrances of Glou to the events of the day and back again. There was no way he would get to sleep any time soon without something to help it along. Reading had always helped when he needed to calm his mind enough to sleep…but that thought triggered the memory of his father reading parts from his favorite book to him when he was small, which didn't accomplish anything.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him – that book! Was it still around? No doubt it was still sitting on the bookshelf in his old room, gathering dust, but he felt like going to look for it anyway. It might even help him get to sleep. The idea motivated him so that he had put on a robe and was halfway down the hall, lamp in hand, almost before he realized it.

Continuing to his old door, he opened it and stepped inside. The lamplight, flickering with his movement, revealed what seemed to be a lump in the bed. Lifting the lamp higher, the light exposed a pale face and a shock of red hair against the pillow.

Albel inhaled sharply as rage boiled up within him, temporarily immobilizing him. How _dare_ she? How dare that Aquarian wench sneak into _his_ home and sleep in his bed? _His bed!_ What gave her the right?

He was so angry his hand holding the lamp actually shook, sending alternating waves of light and shadow careening around the room, while his claw groped urgently for a katana that wasn't there.

He'd actually taken several strides toward the bed, claw poised to strike, before the realization threaded through his rage that she hadn't moved at all. In fact, her eyes were closed, her breathing deep and even – she was asleep.

Could he _really_ attack a sleeping, defenseless woman?

Well, no.

The thought froze him in his tracks. No, he would not stoop so low. But what _would_ he do, then? He could wake her up and toss her out, but Woltar's mansion and the inn were both full. It might even have been his words to her earlier that evening that had given her the idea to come here! But –

"You could have asked," he muttered resentfully.

He sighed and ran his claw-hand carefully through his hair. He supposed he didn't really care that there was probably nowhere else for her to go, but the process of waking her up and throwing her out would probably involve quite a bit of time and effort, and probably a great deal of noise, too. She might seem defenseless now, but that would quickly change as soon as she woke up. Right now he just wanted to go back to the master bedroom and get some sleep. He sighed again exasperatedly. All right, he'd let her stay. It's not like he was using the room anyway. But she'd hear from him about it tomorrow.

The thought of going to sleep reminded him that he had come here for a reason – the book. Might as well get what he came for. Quickly he scanned the bookshelves and found it. He pulled it off the shelf and returned to the doorway.

Pausing, he looked back at the bed. It was surprising to him how 'at home' she looked, as if she had stayed there many times. The thought was almost enough to get him angry all over again. Still, he managed to control himself and close the door quietly behind him as he left. Tomorrow would be soon enough to confront her about it.

Nel waited several minutes after hearing the door click shut and the footsteps moving away before she opened her eyes. Seeing that there really was no one in the room with her any longer, she shuddered slightly in relief. When she had heard him begin to open the door, she had known that the only thing that _might_ get her out of this situation without violence was to 'play dead'. Or more accurately, 'play asleep'.

Even then, the best outcome she had hoped for was that he would toss her out on the street without injuring her. Not that she would have _let_ him hurt her – she _did_ have her daggers handy, after all…

So why had he allowed her to stay?

_Never mind, _she told herself. Sometimes trying to figure out Albel was like trying to solve a logic puzzle with half of the clues missing – it was pointless without more information.

"_You could have asked,"_ he had said. The statement made her feel a bit guilty. Certainly, she _could_ have asked to stay…but what would he have said? Of course he would have refused. She hadn't really had any other choice than to sneak in. Still, she felt she owed him an apology.

_Well, _she thought as she stifled a yawn, _I'll figure out how to apologize tomorrow._ For now, if he wasn't going to throw her out, she saw no reason to worry about it any longer. She pulled the blankets closer around her and slept.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Nel was already up and about when the first rays of the sun broke across the horizon. Soon she was fully dressed, packed, and pondering what to do next. Albel knew she was there, but he didn't know she had been awake when he found her. Should she let him know? Not directly, she decided. He deserved to know, but telling him flat out would probably just anger him more than he was already. Better to give him some time to cool off.

Suddenly her stomach rumbled, but she smiled as it gave her an idea of how to apologize and let him know she'd been awake, all in one. If she hurried, she might even be able to finish it and be out of the house before he got up, hopefully giving him the space she figured he needed.

Pleased with her decision, she hurried down to the kitchen.

oOoOoOoOoOo

It was only slightly later than his usual time when Albel opened his eyes. The common tasks of getting dressed and putting his things together to go back to Woltar's kept him busy enough to avoid thinking about last night too deeply.

Really, what was there to think about? Nel didn't know he had seen her – probably she didn't even know he was in the mansion. Most likely she would sneak back out the way she had come, and appear at Woltar's with no mention of where she'd spent the night.

Maybe he'd just save his knowledge to use against her later, like the next time she wanted him to do something…

Well, he'd worry about it whenever he saw her next.

Leaving the bedroom, he was greeted with the aromas of bacon and eggs wafting up from the kitchen. It had to be Nel cooking, of course, no one else was here. But why would she stick around cooking breakfast when she didn't want anyone to know she had been here? The longer she stayed, the more likely someone would see her leave, and he doubted she'd want that…

Passing the room where Nel had been on his way to the stairs, he checked inside and saw that the room was straightened up as if no one had been there. At least _that _was what he expected. Nel _was_ a spy, after all.

Continuing down the stairs to the kitchen, he found breakfast sitting on the table, still warm. There was a note next to it. Curious, he unfolded it immediately and read it.

_If I had asked, what would you have said?_

Confused, he reread it two more times before the implications hit him. She was responding to what he had said last night, which meant she had heard him. Which meant she had actually been awake the whole time!

"Fool," he berated himself. He should have suspected that she'd been awake. It was like her to avoid confrontation by feigning sleep. At least she had done him the courtesy of letting him know about it before he could embarrass himself.

He glanced at the table. _I suppose this must be her idea of an apology, _he thought.Well, she _was _a good cook; he shouldn't let it go to waste… He sat down and began to eat. But if she thought she could buy him off with only a meal, he'd correct that assumption when he saw her again. He smirked evilly before taking another bite.

------------------------------

And there you go. Well, was it worth waiting an extra week for? If so, you know what to do. ;) See you next time!


	6. Equivalent Exchange

**Disclaimer: **If you're looking for this story's disclaimer, please refer to Chapter One.

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**(March 9, 2006) **I just want to apologize for the long wait for this one. I really have no excuse...I'm not sure I can even claim writer's block, because I _did_ have ideas, but I just couldn't bring myself to write them down, even when I stared at the page for an hour almost every day... Oh well, it's here now.

I would like to dedicate this chapter to my old high school friend Matt, whose birthday is today. Happy 25th Birthday, Matt, wherever you may be. I know he'll never see this, and even if he did, he'd have no idea who I am, but who cares!

At any rate, thanks to all of you reading this for sticking with me. Have fun reading, and please review!

**Note: **Thanks to Blue Persuasion for pointing out a typo! I have now fixed it.

------------------------------

The Nature of Strength  
By: BlueTrillium

Chapter 6: Equivalent Exchange

_Knock knock knock_

"Come in, come in," came the reply.

Nel opened the door to Count Woltar's study, revealing the elderly man standing at his desk leaning over a map, the king at his side. Stepping inside, she made a brief bow, saying, "Forgive me, your Majesty, I did not mean to interrupt."

"Lady Nel! Do not worry; it is no interruption. Quite the contrary," Woltar replied while the king nodded gravely. "Sir Albel gave us notice to expect you, but he was rather short on the details. I take it you are joining our escort to Aquios?"

The red-haired spy made certain to keep her face impassive as she studied the count for a moment. The man baffled her. How could a person be so seemingly open – almost jovial – towards the daughter of a man he had killed? His kindness seemed sincere, yet she had not missed the near-threat behind his words when he had returned her father's Blades of Ryusen to her all those months ago, saying that if the Blades were turned against Airyglyph again, he would not hesitate to take them back…

As she opened her mouth to reply, she caught his keen glance, showing he had noticed her brief appraisal. No, this was not a man to be taken lightly.

"Yes, you are correct. Three others will be joining us as we pass through Arias, as well."

"So few?" This from the king, seeming mildly surprised.

Nel allowed a slight smile to cross her face. "It is all we need. In the words of our queen, 'We must show unity, but we must also show trust.' And these three are some of our best."

"We are honored," the sovereign responded diplomatically.

The woman nodded her thanks.

"Well now, if there are no more messages to pass on?" Woltar raised an eyebrow in inquiry. She shook her head negatively, and he continued. "I made the arrangements last night to add you to our group. An extra lum is waiting; you'll be riding with the king and myself – that is, if you do not object?"

"Not at all. I thank you for your trust." Nel smiled ironically. Such placement gave her easy access to the king, if she wished to harm him, while at the same time, placed her at the center of the king's guard where if she _did_ try anything, she would be hard-pressed to get away. Clever.

The war would likely have gone very differently if Count Woltar had been on our side, she mused. _Yes, _her cynical side responded. _For one thing, Father would still be alive._ Her smile abruptly disappeared.

"Now that's settled, shall we join the rest of the group? We'll be leaving soon," the king suggested.

"By all means." Nel stood aside to allow the others to lead the way out of the study and down the stairs.

Once outside the mansion, the commotion was enormous. Storm Brigade soldiers in their habitual plate mail clanked to and fro, carrying items, loading wagons, and maintaining as much order as was possible in a group where two-thirds of the members were civilians, many of which were nobles.

Woltar summoned a squad to his side, and they quickly cleared a path to the stables, where four saddled lum awaited.

As the king and count mounted the first two lum, the Crimson Blade loaded her slim packs onto the third while eyeing the fourth curiously. Woltar noticed her scrutiny. "That one's for Sir Albel. I'd half-expected him to be here by now…Ah, here he is." As he spoke, Albel sauntered in through the gates, packs slung over his shoulder. Turning in to the stable yard, he went straight to the last lum, loaded it, and mounted.

Nel, watching him, could find no clue indicating his reaction to the events in his manor. In fact, he appeared to be ignoring her completely –

"– Sir Albel!" Woltar called.

Albel's head snapped up. Momentarily his gaze flickered to the red-haired woman and he allowed the ghost of an evil smirk to cross his face before he focused on the elderly count.

Unconsciously Nel shivered. Apparently she wasn't yet forgiven. Truthfully, she hadn't expected to be, but that smirk…what was he plotting? She discreetly sidled her lum a few paces further from his. She wasn't afraid, but caution tended to be a good idea when Albel looked like that.

"Are we ready to move out?" the count continued, speaking to the young captain. Albel responded with a curt nod. Woltar surveyed the courtyard. Indeed, it appeared that everything was in order. Apparently the nobles had learned a bit since leaving Airyglyph City. The elderly man echoed the nod, then looked to the king. "Your Majesty?"

King Arzei signaled, and with a shouted order, the first squad of the vanguard began to ride out. Albel abruptly spurred his lum to join them, leaving the other three behind.

Startled, Nel watched him go, then turned to Woltar. "Isn't he riding with us?"

"Sometimes he does," came the reply. "But much of the time he rides with the vanguard, directing the Black Brigade squad personally." The count moved his lum next to hers and leaned slightly towards her, conspiratorially. "Hoping for the first crack at any monsters, no doubt." He smiled.

The Aquarian smiled back involuntarily. _Damn, that old man can be disarming._ "Sounds like Albel, all right."

oOoOoOoOoOo

The next several days were near-torture for Nel, trying to figure out what Albel was thinking. During the daytime, it wasn't so bad; she continued to ride near the king and Count Woltar, while Albel stayed near the front with his squad. Whatever he was plotting, Nel doubted he would try it where his king would witness it.

The problem was, she didn't know _what_ he was plotting. Every time they encountered each other, that same evil smirk would cross his face, but he said nothing. There were times at night when he would disappear from camp entirely, only to reappear later on the opposite side. Worse, when after the first couple 'disappearances' she had tried to follow him, he had managed to lose her completely.

_That shouldn't even be _possible, she fumed to herself, returning after one such foray only to find Albel smirking at her from across the campfire, acting like he'd never left at all. True, she wasn't an expert tracker, but her spying experience ought to count for _something_.

Days passed with nothing of note occurring, but rather than lessening her paranoia, it increased. Though she knew (or told herself she knew) that he wouldn't be so childish, she found herself checking and rechecking her gear each morning to make sure none of the straps were cut or loosened so the saddle would slide out from under her. She searched her saddle blanket for burrs that would cause her lum to buck and throw her off. She examined her bedroll for any unpleasant critters that may have been slipped inside. She even made certain that none of the food she ate had been anywhere near him. She doubted he'd poison her, but some of the local herbs had laxative effects…

But there was never anything, and every time her eyes met his, that damnable smirk seemed wider.

It had long since gotten to the point where others, namely Woltar and the king, noticed her distraction. Nel half-expected the count, at least, to step in and ask what was going on, but instead the two men seemed more amused than anything else. More than once she had caught them trading knowing looks while she performed one of her extra checks. Lasselle, of course, remained oblivious, thank goodness. Bad enough that she might be losing the respect of the Glyphians; it would be even worse if she added to Lasselle's list of things to chide her about.

Really, it was the outside of enough. She found herself wishing he'd just get his revenge over with. The paranoia was far worse than any punishment he was likely to dish out…

…_Wait a minute._

The slim runologist's hands slowly clenched into fists as she finally realized what his plan was. He had let her punish herself, and all he had needed to do was feed her suspicions at random intervals. And as an added bonus, he'd made her feel stupid, too. Her nails dug into her palms. _That pompous…How dare he?_

She shook her head, forcibly relaxing her fists. Obviously, he did dare. The question was, now what? As soon as she stopped checking everything for traps, he'd know she had figured out his scheme. Would he leave it at that, or try something else? She wasn't sure.

_If only Clair was here, _she wished…but she knew that was pointless. Her best friend was waiting in Arias, and any good advice she might have was waiting with her.

Nel sighed. She didn't think she could stand to wait the four days that remained until they would arrive at Arias to get this resolved. The redhead gazed up at the stars as if they could help, but was disappointed to see their brilliance obscured by the light of the campfires. If she couldn't talk to Clair, she decided, the next best thing would be to get away from camp, away from _him_, somewhere where she could see the stars and think for a while.

Flicking a glance quickly around camp, she noticed the king and Woltar in deep conversation with Albel nearby, mending some gear. It looked like one of the straps of his pack had torn free, taking a bit of the bag with it. Good; that should keep him busy for a while. Quietly, she rose and slipped off into the darkness.

Across the fire, Albel looked up from his work just in time to see the trailing end of Nel's scarf flutter in the firelight a moment before disappearing into the brush, presumably with Nel attached. _What is Zelpher doing _now? he wondered, but shrugged it off and returned to his task. The wench could take care of herself.

oOoOoOoOoOo

An hour later, the young knight set aside his now-mended pack and looked across the fire again. She wasn't back yet. What could the woman be doing that would take so long? Maybe she had run into some monsters. For a moment his mind entertained him with a vision of Nel being mobbed by a flock of the giant moths that inhabited the area. Shaking the image out of his head, he smirked. Zelpher was more than a match for a mob of moths. She'd be fine.

Unconcerned, he directed his attention to eavesdropping on the conversation his king and the old coot were having.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Albel ground his teeth. Another hour, and the fool _still _wasn't back! The moth vision from earlier had morphed into countless variations (some of them quite amusing) of the Aquarian injuring or trapping herself and being unable to return. He had brushed those images aside as being unlikely, but they kept coming back. The young man had done everything he could think of to distract himself: after eavesdropping on the old man's conversation (boring, political, and nothing to do with him), he had set out his bedroll, rearranged the wood around the campfire, and even helped clean up the remains of the camp's evening meal. Which only served to remind him that she hadn't eaten before she'd left.

And so, here he was, growing more worr_—irritated _by the second. He began to pace. How irresponsible of her to leave camp without telling someone where she was going, or at least, how long she would be gone! The thought gave him pause. Zelpher was _never_ irresponsible. Great. Something _must_ have happened, then, for her to be gone this long without notice. Well, if she was weak enough to fall prey to the feeble monsters of the area, or foolish enough to allow herself to be trapped, she deserved to be left behind.

But they couldn't just show up in Arias without her. What could he say? "I'm terribly sorry, but we seem to have misplaced one of your best soldiers somewhere along the trail. She'll catch up, I'm sure. Can we just carry on without her?" He snorted, as much at the unlikelihood of himself saying such a thing as at the Aquarians' likely reaction. They'd probably accuse him of murder on the spot. So much for the peace treaty. At least he wouldn't have to dance, or worry about the rest of Woltar's orders.

The thought made him pause again. Woltar's orders. He'd been ordered to help the peace. The peace needed Zelpher to work. Therefore it was his obligation to get her to Aquios in one piece.

Exasperated, but obscurely pleased with his deduction, he immediately stalked out of the camp in the direction the woman had gone. He'd bring her back to camp even if he had to drag her by the hair.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Nel sighed and lay back on her chosen rock, gazing up at the stars. She was no closer to a plan for how to deal with Albel than she had been two hours ago, but at least she was a lot calmer now. Maybe she _would_ wait until she could get Clair's advice in Arias…

The sparks of light in the sky seemed to glimmer their approval of that notion. _I wonder what Fayt and the others are doing now…_ she speculated, idly jumping her gaze from one star to the next. _Still cleaning up the mess, I suppose._ Defeating Luther had not erased the damage he had done. It would take a long time for everything to recover from what happened, and the universe would never be the same again.

Universe, she mused. It was a word she had never heard until she had met the off-worlders. It was such an…immense word; she still couldn't totally grasp it. But she still carried the weight of the horror she had felt, discovering that the sun, _the incarnation of Apris,_ was just one more speck among all the other stars. It was that discovery, as much as facing the Creator, which had shaken her faith. Apris wasn't the creator of all. And the Creator wasn't a god…

The soft clacking of pebble against stone roused her out of her contemplation. She tensed inwardly, but held her relaxed position.

_Clack_

There it was again, a bit closer. Nel waited, but it didn't come again. Instead, the back of her neck began to prickle, as if she was being watched. She remained still, hoping to lure whatever-it-was out into the open, but nothing happened, and the feeling only intensified. Something was there; she knew it.

But a mindless monster would have attacked anything that was in her seemingly defenseless position by now…so it must be a person, but who?

In this no-man's land along the border, the closest settlement was Arias, four days away. She couldn't imagine the king or Woltar coming to look for her, and Lasselle – definitely not. Not to mention that any one of those three would be a great deal noisier. No other soldier or noble from the camp would have had reason or ability to follow her, either, and that only left one person. Albel.

She sighed and sat up. He was probably out to feed her paranoia again. Or maybe he was looking for a fight. Well, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. A thought struck her – maybe, this was a chance to get things straightened out. She would just ask him what he planned to do. The man might even answer. And if he refused to talk, well, she would not be any worse off than before.

"You might as well come out, Albel. I know you're there." Silence. Nel allowed a note of annoyance to creep into her voice. "Come on. I wanted to talk to you, anyway." Still nothing. Perhaps he thought he could fool her into thinking he wasn't there after all? He should know better. Then again, maybe he was just uncertain of her motives.

"I finally realized what you were doing," she offered. "Making me think you were planning something, when really you were already doing it. Pretty clever, actually. You really had me going for a while there." She sounded rueful, now. "If you're looking for an apology, fine. I'm sorry I didn't ask for your permission to stay at your house when I had the chance. I should have asked. But admit it, if I _had _asked, you would have said 'no'. And don't deny it just because you don't like to be predictable."

At last, a shadow reluctantly separated itself from the darkness to her right and resolved itself into Albel's form, arms crossed. "Fine then, I won't. But if I _had _said 'no', you would have crept in anyway. Deny that, if you can," he accused.

"You're right, I would have," she conceded, more at ease now that she could see him. "I didn't have anywhere else to go at the time."

"So how can you say you're sorry, when you would have done it regardless?"

"I'm not saying I'm sorry for doing it. I'm saying I'm sorry I didn't ask first. They're two different things," she pointed out reasonably. "Though of course you had every right to be angry at me for both." She paused for a moment, gazing at her hands in her lap. "Are you, still? Angry, I mean."

The shadowed warrior hesitated a moment, then, "No." She made as if to speak again, but he cut her off. "But apologies mean nothing. An equivalent exchange must be made, to pay for what you did."

"What do you mean?" she demanded. "I made you breakfast; I went through your mind games. What more do you want?"

He waved a hand dismissively. "All that was for not asking. There still remains the issue of the use of the room."

"What—"

"A room for a room, fool. When we get to Aquios, I stay at your house." _Wait…Where the hell did _that_ come from?_ The idea had just flashed into his head and he had let the words spill out without thinking, but…whatever. It _did_ make a balanced kind of sense, actually. And the look on the Aquarian's face was priceless.

Nel gaped at him, stunned. "I'm not sure that's a good—"

"I don't see the problem, Zelpher." He smirked. "It's a reasonable solution. _I_ don't have to stay packed in like sardines with all those scheming political maggots, and _you_ get to keep me further away from your queen. Which ought to make no little number of Aquarians happy," he ended bitterly. "Well?"

She sighed, defeated. "…All right. But you should know that—"

"—It's settled, then," he interrupted. Enough time had been spent on this nonsense. Turning on his heel, he started back to camp, but stopped when he noticed she hadn't moved. He glared back over his shoulder. "…You coming, or what?"

Nel hesitated, looking back up at the sky. "…Albel? How did you…I mean, what was it like, when you left with the others, and you saw this world shrink to just another star behind you? Were you…afraid?" She glanced over, caught his indignant stare, and looked away hurriedly. "I mean, _I_ was… And to think, that each spark of light up there could be another world like our own…"

Involuntarily, Albel found his own gaze pulled to the stars for a moment. Then, "Bah," he muttered. His eyes fell back down and rested on her briefly, and then he turned to walk away again. "Come on, we need to get back."

The Crimson Blade sighed, unsurprised at the lack of response, and got to her feet, brushing herself off. She didn't really feel like leaving yet, but there was no reason not to. She _had _gotten the resolution she had come for, even if it wasn't what she'd expected. Resigned, she followed Albel back to camp.

------------------------------

So, there it is! A little more humor in this chapter, I think...

Well, I believe I have a clearer idea now of what I want to do next, so it shouldn't be another three month wait for the next chapter. (cross fingers) Let's aim for...March 30th, or thereabouts. Wish me luck!

**Note 04/03/2006:** I've got most of the chapter planned out, and the start and end are fine, but the middle's giving me problems...I know, excuses, excuses...but I'll get it out as soon as I can.


	7. Listening In

**Disclaimer: **If you're looking for this story's disclaimer, please refer to Chapter One.

----------

**(July 7, 2006) **Bleh. I think this update took even longer than the last one! And after I said it should be faster because I knew what was going to happen, too...I apologize. Part of the reason for the delay was because I had a sudden plot bunny that got so long that the events I already had planned out got pushed to next chapter. I know, I know, feel free to sic your ferrets, chinchillas, and various rodentia on me. But I promise, the story _will_ get to Aquios at the beginning of the next chapter. In fact, the next chapter is the king's wedding to the high priestess's daughter Rozaria.

Grateful thanks, as always, to my awesome beta, Lucrecia LeVrai. I may not always come out and say it every time, but your advice is always invaluable to me. -hug- Thanks also to all the awesome reviewers. I know I don't usually respond directly, but your comments _do_ influence my writing.

And now, on with the show! Warning: Nel gets a bit preachy. But, c'mon, that's Nel for you. :)

------------------------------

The Nature of Strength  
By: BlueTrillium

Chapter 7: Listening In

Clair gaped at Nel across the conference room table in Arias. "Albel's going to _what?_" she gasped before collapsing into her chair in a fit of laughter.

Nel crossed her arms and made a show of patiently waiting for her friend to calm down, though she couldn't prevent the corners of her mouth from quirking up in shared amusement. Not much caught Clair's sense of humor, but when it did… She was just glad her reaction was amusement instead of fear.

"Does…does he know…about…who else is staying at your place?" Clair managed. The redhead's negative headshake set her off again. "Wh-what will Father say, I wonder… Oh! Oh, you should have them…share a room!"

"Not if I want the furniture to stay in one piece," Nel commented dryly, imagining the destruction that would ensue from _that _scenario. "Especially if Adray's still on his match-making spree…" she grinned at her best friend's sudden discomfiture.

"I really wish he'd get over that," she muttered. Then, placing her elbows on the table, she added, "But seriously, you should have warned him that Father and I will be there, too…"

"I tried!" Nel threw up her hands, exasperated now. "I did. But he wouldn't hear it. And you _know _if I tell him now, he'll either believe me and be mad I didn't tell him before, or he won't believe me and be mad that I'm making things up to get out of the deal. Either way—"

"—Either way, he's mad at you," Clair finished, slanting a look at the redhead that she couldn't interpret.

Choosing to ignore both the look and the odd emphasis Clair had put on the word 'you', Nel continued. "I _will _tell him of course. As soon as I get the chance. At least then he'll have as long as possible to decide how he wants to handle it."

Clair nodded in agreement. "It seems to be the best option. And I doubt it'll change Albel's mind. I would guess staying in the same house as my father will seem a lot better to him than trying to get a moment's peace staying in the palace, once we get there."

"Speaking of getting there, when do you think you'll be ready to leave?"

"Pretty soon, actually. We were already mostly packed, and when the scouts saw you coming, we started pulling the last few things together. I expect Tynave or Farleen to report we're ready to go any time now."

"Good. If we move out soon we could get at least a half-day's travel in today, yet."

"In a hurry, are you?" Clair smirked.

Nel sighed. "Well, I'll feel a lot easier about this whole thing once the wedding's over and the treaty's settled, that's for certain. This peace could do so much good, for _both_ countries…"

Clair settled back in her chair and folded her hands meditatively. "Yeah. We could definitely use more ores and refined metals, and Airyglyph has such a food shortage—"

"Actually, that's starting to get a bit better already. Those goodwill food shipments the queen sent did a lot of good." Nel nodded approval.

Clair tilted her head. "Agreed. But she's not the only one…I heard—_how_ many Glyphian street-kids have you 'adopted' now? Four? Five?" She grinned slyly.

"Seven," Nel answered, unperturbed. "Though it's more like they adopted _me. _And they're very good about helping me get information from places I can't usually go, or when I can't be two places at once. And children hear things that I might not."

"Oh-ho!" Clair said, still teasing. "So _that's _how you justified asking for a larger operating allowance! I was _wondering_ what you needed it for…"

"Nonsense," Nel countered easily. "I seem to recall you slipping me a few extra fol a time or two, for my 'informants', you said…and then there was that candy around the Tri-Moon Festival last year…the little toys at Winter Solstice… You know, Adray would just _love _to hear how much you adore kids—"

"All right! All right, you win." Clair surrendered, laughing. "So…did they like the toys?"

oOoOoOoOoOo

Albel grunted softly and turned away from the door as the conversation devolved into stories about the children's latest antics. He hadn't truly meant to eavesdrop, but the old man had sent him looking for the Aquarians to find out when they would leave, and when he'd heard his name – well, he couldn't just barge in without knowing what he was interrupting. Or he could, but experience had taught him that knowing the battlefield before he entered it was the first step to winning.

Besides, who knew Zelpher could sound so…happy? And teasing? Sarcasm, he had heard from her, but teasing? Joking? It showed just how reserved she was around everyone else, and though Albel cursed himself for weakness, he was reluctant to cut her fun short. But he had the information he came for, so there was no reason to stick around. He strode purposefully down the hall before he could change his mind. It was his duty to report back that they were almost ready to leave.

It was the rest of what he had overheard that kept swirling through his mind, though. Staying in the same house with the old maggot, he set aside. Like the silver-haired wench had said: Zelpher's home, even with the annoying additional occupant, was better than the crowded palace. Or at least it was better as long as he didn't have to share a room with the fool. But the idea of cold Crimson Blade Nel Zelpher, 'adopted' by street-kids – seven, no less! – was tremendously amusing. So, the wench had some womanly weaknesses, after all…

_Thump_

Albel was jolted out of his thoughts when his shoulder collided with someone, sending them staggering into a wall. He blinked. It was one of that woman's subordinates, the blond one…Tyleen? Farnave? Whatever. _Wait. Wasn't that the one the Aquarians were expecting to tell them when it was time to go? _He scowled suddenly at the reminder. "Out of my way, maggot!" He had to report.

Stunned speechless at the unexpected impact and insults, Tynave stared angrily at Albel's retreating back. Then her normally sleepy eyes opened wide in shock. Before the collision, Albel had been…smiling?

oOoOoOoOoOo

Nel and the other Aquarians exited the mansion to find the Glyphians ready and waiting to ride out. She sighed. So, Albel had been eavesdropping, after all. She had suspected as much after Tynave reported her run-in with the man in the hall. All the same, she had no way of knowing just how much he had heard – he might not know about Adray, so she'd still have to tell him.

The lum were already saddled for them, so the four women mounted and moved to join the column. Waving Tynave and Farleen to the back of the caravan to support the rearguard, Nel and Clair moved to the front, where King Airyglyph and Count Woltar waited, with Albel a bit further ahead. Formally greeting all three, she waited until they moved out and had traveled some distance down the road before sidling her mount over beside Albel's.

"Nox," she began, "I didn't take the time to make certain you heard this before, and I apologize, but there's something you should know if you're going to stay at my home—"

"Don't."

Nel looked at him questioningly.

"Don't apologize. And _don't_ pretend you don't know that I overheard your conversation with the other wench. Your subordinate would have told you about meeting me in the hallway. Unless she's a lot less loyal to you than I think she is." He smirked.

Bristling at the implied slight to Tynave, she snapped back. "I'm not pretending. Of course I knew you were listening, but how were we to know how much you heard? You might not have heard the part about Adray and Clair staying with us."

"Well, I did."

"Okay, then."

The silence dragged on between them for some minutes. Then—

"So just how much did you—" Nel began curiously.

"Don't you want to know what else I—" Albel started simultaneously.

"—hear?" she finished, smiling.

"—heard…" Albel ended lamely. "Don't do that." He scowled at her a moment, then chuckled. "Hard to imagine you with seven kids, though…and Glyphian brats at that."

"They're not 'brats'," she retorted, half-smiling. "And they're not 'mine', either. They just…helped me out sometimes."

"Surely you didn't need _that_ many to spy for you?"

"Well, I couldn't just pick and choose," she said defensively. "Not when they were all starving, right in front of me. But children have pride, too. They wouldn't just take the food without doing something in return. So yes, I found tasks for all of them." She smiled fondly, remembering. "It's amazing, some of the things they can do."

He snorted. "I don't know whether to warn the king that you're raising an army under his nose, or congratulate you for handling them. They must have driven you up the wall with all their foolishness."

"Not at all. These are street-kids, remember – they can take care of themselves. They're more like miniature adults than children, and they're very independent." Nel tilted her head at him, considering. Greatly daring, she continued. "They're a lot like you, actually. Or they were, at the beginning. Tough, constantly active and cautious, fiercely protective of their own, incredibly offended at even the _implication_ that they might need charity, and determined to instantly pay off any debt."

Albel's face was a study as he tried to decide whether to be flattered or offended at the comparison, and Nel had to dip her face into her scarf to hide her grin. Finally he decided to just avoid that particular issue in favor of other information. "Bah. 'At the beginning', you said. What's changed?"

"Oh, not much." She waved her hand airily. "But I did manage to convince them that I was a friend, and friends don't keep accounts."

"What, so they just accept your charity now?" Albel sounded almost disappointed in them.

"Not a chance," she assured him. "They'd never let me get away with that. But now, if I happen to give them something extra, or if they help me out more than usual, it doesn't matter so much. We trust that it'll even out in the end, and we don't worry about keeping track. We know friends don't help because they have to; they help because they feel like it."

"Hmph. Weak nonsense, it sounds like."

She gave him an almost pitying look. "You would see it that way. But actually, it works amazingly well." She settled back, letting her lum pick its own way along the road. "Think about it tactically. A friend will help even if you don't ask for it, even if you didn't know you needed the help. A friend will worry about you and go looking for you if you disappear. A friend will be quiet when you need quiet, and scold you when you need scolding, whether you want them to or not. Someone who's strictly a subordinate or a paid business partner won't do that; they won't do any more than they've been paid for or ordered to do, unless it benefits them."

Albel was skeptical. "Really. But you were just saying that friendship _does_ benefit the person, so how is that really any different?"

Nel shook her head. "I'm explaining badly. The difference is that a friend thinks about what benefits the _other_ person first, and themselves second. People who aren't friends will think of themselves first. Friends don't expect a reward for what they do, they're just happy if the other person is happy." She cast about for an example. "Well…remember Sophia? She would heal any of us whenever we needed it, without expecting anything in return. It wasn't her responsibility; she didn't _have_ to do it, but she did it anyway. She considered us her friends, you see?"

"Sounds more like she was letting us take advantage—" A crashing sound and some shouts from the road ahead interrupted him. "What's that, now?" He stood up in his stirrups to peer ahead, but could see nothing around the curve of the road. The crashes continued, and he sat back down, cursing. "Fools. Do I always have to be hovering over their shoulders?" Kicking his mount into a gallop, he raced toward the disturbance.

Falling back, Nel resumed her place beside Clair, intercepting an odd look that reminded her disconcertingly of her friend's father. "What?" she asked, keeping her eyes scanning the sides of the road for trouble.

Clair smiled. "Never mind."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Nel sighed happily as the caravan finally entered the gates of Peterny and disbanded. As the last large town before their destination, they would stay at least one night, perhaps two, before moving on. _Well, probably not two, _she admitted. Almost everyone wanted to get the wedding accomplished and the treaty finalized as soon as possible, and the king could only be away from his capital for so long. But at least for one night, she could stay in a real bed, and get a bath. She was used to traveling, yes, but at much faster speeds and therefore much less time between towns.

However, it was not time to seek out her hotel room just yet. It was barely mid-afternoon and some of her subordinates should be waiting to report on the wedding preparations and road conditions, as well as any messages the queen might have for her.

Spotting two of the agents sitting at the market square's outdoor café, she waved and headed over to their table, Clair following close behind. Pulling up a couple of extra chairs, they were soon settled, and the other women began their reports as a waitress brought a round of chilled berry juice. Nel thanked her before turning her full attention to the speaking woman.

"…just got the latest report from Aquios earlier today; everything's on schedule for both the wedding and the reception. Most of the non-Glyphian guests have already arrived at the capital, and we're just waiting for your group and a few guests from really outlying areas. I would estimate that we would be able to have the ceremony the same day you arrive, if you arrive early enough in the morning."

The second woman took up where the first left off. "Traveling conditions are good; the weather's been dry and there have been very few monster reports. You should be able to make good time." She paused to sip at her juice.

Nel leaned forward. "Any new messages from the queen?" Both agents shook their heads in denial. "How about local feeling? Are people generally in favor of the peace agreement and the wedding?"

One woman tapped her chin in thought, while the second one's expression darkened. "Well," the first one began. "Overall, it seems people are in favor. It helps that most of what Airyglyph wants from us in trade is food; people don't see any threat in that. Some fear that the treaty agreement may give up too many concessions, but those opinions are on hold until the details of the treaty come out. There are still some hard feelings left from the war, though…" She glanced over at her companion, who was glaring across the square, looking angrier by the moment. Nel followed her gaze to catch a glimpse of Albel and Woltar, apparently heading for the hotel. Once they had disappeared back into the crowd, she returned her attention to her agents. The one who had been staring gradually lost her angry look, leaving behind depression.

"Lady Nel…Lady Clair…don't you sometimes feel like ending the war like this is betraying the memory of our dead? Why should we allow the ones who killed our friends, who killed my sister, into our capital? What did they die for, if we did not win? Doesn't it make you feel like a traitor?"

Nel looked thoughtfully up at the sky for a moment. "I…I can understand how you can feel that way. After all, Count Woltar was the one who killed my father. Sir Albel's troops imprisoned Farleen and Tynave, and Albel himself beat them senseless at the copper mines. Duke Vox was responsible for so much harm; I don't know where to start." She winced at the memory, and looked back down at the women, meeting each one's eyes. Clair solemnly nodded encouragement. "But…continuing the war wouldn't undo those things. It wouldn't bring my father, or your sister, or any of our dead back. And…we have to keep in mind that the Glyphians are making just as much of a compromise, if not more. We killed just as many of their soldiers as they did ours; I even helped to take out Sir Albel's and Duke Vox's second-in-commands myself. I spied on them and delivered information that caused them to lose even more lives. They have every reason to hate me, and yet, here they are, traveling with me, entrusting some of the safety of their king to my keeping. I feel we can't honorably do any less than to grant them some of our trust in return. This war had been a defensive war for us from the start; I honestly think that if we continued the war longer than necessary, then _that _would be betraying the dead more than suing for peace. Continuing would just cost more lives. You've already lost your sister; would you be willing to lose your brother as well? Your cousin? Your parents? It's not worth it. If making peace with my father's killers will keep the majority of my country's people safe and happy, that's what I'll do. It's not just my duty; my heart tells me this is best."

The woman who had questioned her remained silent for a moment, then nodded before slowly standing up to leave. Her fellow joined her in standing, saying "Well, we ought to head back to Aquios. Any messages for the Queen?"

Nel shook her head negatively. "Just to continue with the preparations as planned. I hope you realize now how important this is."

"Yes ma'am." The two murmured in reply. They bowed briefly and left.

Clair's hand on her shoulder caused Nel to jump slightly. The silver-haired woman smiled gently, and her grip tightened a bit in reassurance. "I'll go seek out our rooms at the hotel. Come along when you're ready."

Nel nodded wordlessly, and then contemplated the remains of the berry juice in her glass. Would peace really be so simple? Could it? She sighed. It never was. Did she really want it to be, was the question.

As she raised the glass to her lips, a weight settled into the chair next to her. "Sounds like you and I have much the same orders," a familiar voice half-taunted.

Lowering her hand, she couldn't help the wry quirk that turned up the corner of her mouth. "Nox. Eavesdropping again, are you?"

Albel shrugged carelessly. "Why not? It saves time, not having to ask questions."

"Only if what we say answers the questions you want to ask," she pointed out reasonably. "Next time, try joining us instead of lurking in the background."

"Bah. If people know I'm there, the questions won't get answered." He smirked. "Tell you what. I'll stop eavesdropping when _you_ stop having conversations where I can hear them."

Nel rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Well, you'd better give me a list of your questions, then, so I can make sure I cover them in my conversations."

Albel snorted.

"Think about it." She stood up. "It could work." With a parting wave, she walked off towards the hotel, leaving Albel to his own devices.

------------------------------

There ya go. The part about the street-kids came out of nowhere, but once it occurred to me I liked the idea so much I couldn't just let it go. I don't know if the kids will show up again later, but if I have anything to say about it, they will. ;)

That said, I'm going to need names for them, and if any of you feel like making suggestions, feel free to send them to me, in a review or an email. I plan to take regular names and modify them to sound Glyphian (or at least, my version of Glyphian). Stuff like, I'd take 'Kathrin' and change it to 'Katy' or 'Katri', 'Natalia' to 'Natla', 'Joshua' to 'Jos', 'Sedona' to...hmm...maybe 'Seda'? 'Senna'?. Yes, I am taking examples from the names of people I know. :) There are going to be two boys and five girls, the boys being pretty young (6 or 7 years old, or even younger) and the girls ranging from 6 or 7 up to their mid-teens, if you want to suggest a name for a specific one. I won't guarantee I'll use all the suggestions, but I'll credit the ones I do use to the people who give them to me!

All right, enough of my rambling. :) I'll get to work on the next chapter, but if the gap gets too long again, feel free to poke me with a stick. Or an email, if that's more convenient. I promise I don't bite.


	8. Sea of White

**Disclaimer: **If you're looking for this story's disclaimer, please refer to Chapter One.

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**(March 10, 2010) **Whew! Here at last. Well, I probably should've waited until my final beta came back, but I just got too impatient. I hope she will forgive me. ^_^ I will update this as needed when I do get final beta.

I'll be honest – this chapter kicked my behind, repeatedly and without conscience or remorse. I guess I am just not by nature very interested in fancy ceremonies like weddings (heck, I didn't even bother to attend my own college graduation ceremony), so it was very hard to write. I had much more fun doodling Rozaria's wedding dress, and Albel, Nel, Clair, and Adray's wedding outfits all over my rough drafts, which doodles I will post to my DA if I ever get them view-worthy.

Enormous thanks go out to Lucrecia LeVrai and Blue Persuasion, as usual, for their proofreading, advice, and encouragement. Thanks also to those who stuck by me through this ridiculous delay and poked me to finally post it (you know who you are – yes, you)! And one more bit of thanks, and welcome, to readers, new and returning alike. You deserve it.

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The Nature of Strength

By: BlueTrillium

Chapter 8: Sea of White

The caravan had barely entered the gates of Aquios that morning before it was swarmed over by servants; one set efficiently taking charge of the lum and the wagons, another set greeting the lower-ranked guests and leading them to their lodgings to prepare for the wedding. Albel dismissed the soldiers to go with that group, avowing that for the short time left until the ceremony, he and Woltar would be guard enough for the king. The queen herself was there, gravely greeting each Glyphian noble or Aquarian ambassador before allowing yet more servants to lead them off as well, eventually leaving only the king, Woltar, and Albel left of the Glyphians, and Nel and Clair left of the Aquarians.

Adray had arrived with the last of the servants, and heartily greeted his daughter and Nel, engulfing them in his embrace. At the sound of their muffled protests, he released them, but only to arm's length as he beamed proudly. "Welcome back!" he exclaimed. "Such a glorious day for a wedding. Now, if only you girls would find some men, you could have a day just like thi—Mmphf!" Rolling her eyes, Clair clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Not today, Father," she grumbled. Nel hid her smirk in her scarf. "Now, I assume you came to show us where we can change? And you've still to change, yourself, I see…You _are _planning on wearing what I arranged for you, aren't you?" She pinned him with her most steely glare.

Chuckling, Adray backed away from his daughter's hand. "Yes, yes, it's all laid out, cloak and all. No need to worry. Come on, I've already let the servants know where to bring your clothes." Shaking their heads ruefully, the two women followed him as he strode toward the palace.

Smirking, Albel watched them go, but his attention was soon drawn back to the queen when she spoke. "Welcome, Arzei," she said warmly, clasping his hands briefly and greeting the other two men with nods. "Count Woltar, Sir Albel." She returned her attention to the king. "Rozaria is already preparing. We have arranged a suite for your preparations as well, where you will not be disturbed. If you will accompany me, I will guide you there."

King Airyglyph nodded calmly, taking her arm. "Thank you, Romeria." The elderly count fell in behind them, and glancing around sharply, Albel followed.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Never large, the palace cathedral was filling up quickly as noble and commoner alike filtered in, all cloaked in white, though here and there a flash of the finery underneath would show for a moment before vanishing again. The higher-ranked guests claimed places in the rows of pews along the main aisle with much subtle political maneuvering, while the less privileged found places lining the walls and balconies.

The murmur of the crowd could be heard even through the thick carved wooden doors, and when they were opened, the sound rolled out like a wave, swirling around those who entered.

Pausing at the threshold, Nel let the noise wash over her as she scanned the assembly for a place to sit.

There weren't very many gaps in the sea of white cloaks, and a flash of purple drew her eyes to the right. There was Farleen, no doubt, and the blonde head next to her was probably Tynave. A hopeful scan of the area, though, proved it to be completely full. No seats there.

Turning her gaze to the left, an open area caught her eye—nearly a whole pew, empty. Surprised at her luck, she made her way over to it. The bench wasn't completely vacant; there were two dark-haired people at the far end. A glimpse of yellow mixed with the darker strands of the nearer person's hair confirmed his identity. Albel. Well, that explained a lot. Cynically, she decided that the surprise now was that the rest of the row _wasn't _completely empty. Who would…?

Elena bent forward to see around Albel. "Hello, Nel," she greeted, smiling.

Nel nodded and returned the greeting. "Elena. Albel." He grunted acknowledgement as she took a seat next to him, and kept his eyes constantly sweeping across the crowd.

"Where's Clair?" Elena asked with faint concern. "Wasn't she with you?"

"She's coming. She had to check in on Adray and make sure he was presentable." Nel grinned. "She should be along any moment now—ah, here she is." She waved as Clair slid in next to her, murmuring a hasty greeting to the others.

Buffered from Albel by the two women, the rest of the row filled in swiftly. The crowd noise continued to swell with each person that entered. Albel's agitation grew with it and his eyes flicked from one side to the other, trying to spot potential threats. Irritated, his fingers kept twitching for a weapon he didn't dare draw. He flinched involuntarily when a hand closed over his arm, stilling it. He whipped his head around to face the threat, only to glare into the calm eyes of Elena. At the same moment, another set of hands grabbed his free arm, forcing it (and the dagger he'd unconsciously drawn) down and away from her. He turned back to face a scorching glare from Nel that was almost a match for his own.

"What is _wrong _with you?" she hissed through clenched teeth. "If anyone had seen that and started a panic—"

Elena cut her off with a gesture, not removing her other hand from Albel's arm. "Wait, Nel," she whispered. "I startled him; he had cause." Directing her gaze back to Albel, she quietly asked, "What is disturbing you, Albel? Did you see something?"

In spite of his nerves, her serene manner induced the beginnings of a similar composure in himself, though it was quickly replaced by frustration. He'd nearly gutted her; how could the woman be so _calm_? In his irritation he didn't bother to consider his words, though he did manage to keep his voice down.

"Bah, that's the problem, fool! I _can't_ see anything. All these damnable white cloaks – anyone could be hiding a weapon! I didn't guard Arzei all this way only to have him knifed in the back during the ceremony. And don't you care for the safety of your own queen?"

Nel's glare deepened at the insult, but she grimaced, displaying her own nerves. "Of course we do! But listen; no matter what, if someone was truly determined to bring a weapon in, they'd do it no matter _what _they were wearing." She sent a significant glance at the dagger he was holding. "This way, at least the cloaks hamper their movement, and any weapon should stand out clearly against all the white. There are guards posted around the room, and once their majesties arrive, our best runologists will hold a protective barrier around them. What more would you have us do?"

They glared at each other, neither backing down, until Elena chuckled.

"Two leaves from the same branch, you are. Always worrying. I've no doubt that, should any threat appear, you two would take care of it even before it ran afoul of our other precautions. The only question is which of you would get there first." She smiled.

Albel didn't smile back, but her calm voice and confident tone did have a resonating affect on him, and the hand holding the dagger relaxed. Sensing that this particular danger was past, Nel released him and turned away to answer Clair's questioning look with a shrug of her own. Albel slipped the knife back into its sheath, his hand strangely cold. He stared at it blankly for a moment, then absently shook off the sensation.

Elena released him as well. She moved to speak again, but a fanfare cut her off, slicing through the crowd noise and bringing silence in its wake as all eyes were directed towards the double doors. Nel straightened to full attention; _this _was all the work of recent months coming together at last.

Into the silence paced the queen of Aquaria, who, since the high priestess was required to stand witness for her daughter, would preside over the ceremony. Formidably beautiful, her habitually pale attire was replaced with a flowing gown of deepest blue overlaid with a nearly transparent layer of white silk, demurely covering her from neck to wrist to ankle. Her hair was bound up and covered by a simple white headdress, decorated only by a few blossoms. She bore a large silver bowl of smoldering incense, from which a tendril of pale smoke rose.

Nel smiled appreciatively as the light evergreen scent reached her. Ordinarily, important rituals like this incorporated cloying, spicy incense, as if to weigh down those present with the significance of the occasion, but Rozaria had requested otherwise, and would not be moved. Glancing around, she noted more evidence of the bride's subtle hand in the careful balance of Glyphian and Aquarian decorations.

The queen paused in the entry as the fanfare ended. A lone flute picked out a joyful melody as she took her first step forward, pacing gravely down the aisle.

Rozaria was like that, Nel mused. The way she gracefully bowed to others' direction when she chose often fooled them into thinking she was easily swayed, but when she felt strongly about something, several soft-voiced comments later would see it done, leaving nearly all previous opposition thinking it was their own idea.

A second wind instrument joined the first as Adray appeared, cloaked in white as were the guests, but solemnly bearing a deep blue, sliver-frosted cushion that matched the queen's dress, upon which rested the Sacred Orb. It shimmered in the light and seemed almost to spin within the hollow of its nest.

That skill was what had made her the best choice to match King Airyglyph. Fond as Nel was of Elena, and much as Nel wished for her happiness, Aquaria truly could not afford to lose her brilliant mind to a country that had so recently been a rival. Beyond that, it seemed likely that the king's council would have thrown up every possible barrier to prevent such an obviously strong-willed and intelligent woman from taking the throne at King Arzei's side. Wedding Rozaria instead placated both sides, while still giving the king someone Nel hoped he would depend on as a far more subtle yet just as able partner.

Yet more instruments joined in as three young priestesses in pale robes followed, each wearing a moon circlet and bearing a different bouquet of flowers.

Nel pressed her lips together to hold in a chuckle – evidently even Rozaria's determination hadn't managed to completely tone down the pastel priestesses. At least they weren't strewing petals in the aisle and singing, as Nel had witnessed the last time she'd attended a state wedding. This sedate march was a great improvement.

Next came Count Woltar, escorting the high priestess, both wearing their white cloaks open so that the brighter colors of their clothing could be seen – a wine red for Woltar and a complementary forest green for the priestess.

They made quite a regal pair themselves, Nel reflected. In spite of the difference in height (the count was several inches shorter than the high priestess) and the fact that she focused firmly on the altar ahead while Count Woltar was subtly taking in the entire room (much as Albel had), together their matched paces and solemn expressions clearly radiated authority and respect for each other and the occasion.

Once they had passed the doors, a clear soprano gave voice to the melody that was playing, weaving all the instruments together and bestowing a blessing in Old Aquorian. As the music reached its peak, Rozaria and Arzei stepped into view, arm in arm.

Nel couldn't stop herself from taking a quick glance at Elena to see her reaction. Though the woman's gaze was steady, her hands had clenched involuntarily in her lap. Her eyes briefly met Nel's, and the painful acceptance in them made Nel want to reach over to support her, however foolish such an action might be with Albel between them and who knows how many curious eyes to witness. Controlling the impulse and unable to do anything else for her friend, Nel closed her eyes briefly in sympathy, and Elena gave her a slightly brittle smile before turning her attention back to the procession.

In vivid contrast to everyone else, not a spot of white softened the colors of the royal pair's attire; Rozaria in a royal purple gown that left her shoulders and upper back bare, laced in at the waist, then flaring out, slit at regular intervals all around to reveal the sapphire-blue of the skirt underneath. Her dark hair was gathered into a glittering net at the nape of her neck, and several brilliantly purple and blue flowers were woven into it. She clasped a bouquet of the same flowers, blue ribbons trailing down between her hands.

It was a true pity, Nel thought sadly, that the happiest choice and the best choice were not always the same. But the alliance had to be made, and this, while not the _only _way, would result in the strongest ties. At least Rozaria, being of high rank, had long expected to marry to advantage, rather than for love.

Arzei's formal robe featured the same royal purple, but the slits at his shoulders and sides showed accents of red.

Nel pushed the wistful thoughts firmly away. While so far her role as half of the Crimson Blade had precluded it, she herself could in all likelihood someday be required to do something similar. Still, she _might_ be allowed to choose…or she might die before it became an issue… Though she carefully kept her eyes directed towards the Glyphian king and his bride-to-be, Nel allowed her gaze to lose focus as she analyzed various scenarios.

As the bride and groom paced toward the altar, their presence formed a solid core of color amid all the white, firmly focusing the crowd's attention. Temporarily, Albel allowed his gaze to be drawn in as well, and he surveyed the pair critically.

Arzei, he thought, looked just as a king ought. Spine straight but not stiff, expression controlled but not overly haughty, power implied but not blatant. The little priestess, on the other hand, was not so impressive. She seemed nervous, focusing her eyes on her bouquet and her mother's back rather than allowing them to rise and meet anyone else's. She seemed pale, washed-out, and the saturated colors of her clothing only accentuated the image, making her look like a ghostly doll. Albel's lip curled slightly. _This _weak, timid thing was to become his queen. _This _girl was going to join Arzei in his duty to take care of Airyglyph and protect it. He refrained from spitting only by the thinnest of margins. This was a child, an infant that needed protection rather than gave it. How could she possibly be strong enough to take on the responsibility that was Airyglyph's fate? Surely there must have been a better option.

In disgust he tore his eyes away from the sight, and caught Elena looking at him again. Arzei had asked _her_ first, he recalled, and she had turned him down, citing some foolish excuse about being too old, or some such nonsense. He doubted she was much older than Arzei, but he could grudgingly respect the spine it took for a commoner to turn down a king. He could still recall the cool way she faced him down the one time he had confronted her about it…

"_You are a fool," Albel coldly stated. He had stalked uninvited into her suite after hearing of Arzei's engagement to Rozaria._

_She didn't bother to turn around. "Perhaps," she replied, focusing her attention on the diagrams before her on the desk. "And perhaps not. You know as well as I that your council would declare any marriage between Arzei and I morganatic. Even if we did have children—"_

_The sharpened fingers of his claw gnashed together. "That is a specious argument, and you know it! I don't know what Arzei sees in you, and I don't care, but _anything _is better than that mousy priestess chit. If you agreed, Arzei would fight the council if necessary, to have it declared valid." And Arzei compromised too much. Despite the bad blood currently between them, he felt that Arzei ought to be able to get what _he_ wanted, for once._

"_There are better things for Arzei to battle his council over. And would he be willing to fight _our _council as well? The Queen could not allow me to go even should she wish to. She cannot afford the loss, and he cannot afford the gain. Rozaria is a far more appropriate choice; one of the few acceptable to all."_

"_She is weak."_

_Her icy glare slashed through him before returning to her work. "Not all strengths are the same, Sir Albel."_

Albel scowled at the memory. For his kingdom's sake, he had tried to see that 'strength' in Rozaria, but the few times he had met her had revealed nothing that he could recognize.

Elena seemed to guess some of what was going through his mind, and she shook her head slightly, then tilted it toward the procession; a clear indication that he should pay more attention to the here and now.

Reluctantly, he faced forward, to find that the procession had already reached the altar. Queen Romeria had apparently set the incense bowl on a squat pedestal in front of the altar, and then went to stand behind the block of consecrated stone, composed and waiting. Adray had placed the Sacred Orb on the center of the altar, then retreated to stand a bit behind the Queen and to her left. The three bundles of flowers from the moon priestesses were arranged around the Orb, while the women themselves were standing off to the Queen's right.

As he watched, Woltar and the high priestess took the last few steps toward the altar, then bowed and parted, one to each side. Through all of this, the instruments had dropped out of the music, one by one, in the order they had joined, until now only the soprano was left. The lonely, joyful song continued as Arzei and Rozaria completed their journey and stopped before the altar. The lone soprano rose into one last paean to the gods, and then faded.

Into the silence, Romeria stepped forward and raised her hands in blessing over the royal pair, chanting something that drew a ritual response from most of the crowd. Albel didn't bother to join in. He knew he ought to be interested, or at least politely feign interest, since religious displays like these had been eliminated from Airyglyph during the war, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he cynically wondered how long it would be before the new queen's weakness would cause harm to Airyglyph – harm _he _would have to defend it from. And while he welcomed the challenge, he was annoyed by the necessity. _Surely there must have been another option…_

He had considered it before. Not being familiar with Aquarian bloodlines, he did not know of very many unwed female Aquarians of the appropriate blood rank and age; mentally holding each one up next to Arzei, they were just flat paper cutouts with no personality and no benefit to Airyglyph – no better (though possibly no worse) than Rozaria. The only other possibilities that came to mind (other than the queen herself – and joining the two countries had never really been an option) were Clair Lasbard and Nel Zelpher.

Albel watched without seeing as the youngest of the moon priestesses stepped forward. "Palmira, moon goddess of water and beauty, hear and bless this union with joy and fruitfulness." She sprinkled water from the Sacred Orb over them both, then plucked several petals from her bundle of flowers. "By this water, and these petals from the flower of your namesake, let prosperity grow from all that they do." She dropped the petals into the burning incense bowl and stepped back.

Either one of those women would have been more appropriate for Arzei by his reckoning. _Their _strength was proven; they would not have survived the war otherwise.

The second priestess came forward. "Erinia, moon goddess of storms and war, hear and bless this union with strength and fortitude." Unsheathing a ceremonial dagger, she pricked the fingers of the couple, holding them over the bowl until a drop of blood from each had fallen in. Petals from her own bundle of flowers followed. "By this blood, and these petals from your sacred yupa flowers, grant them the ability to work through all ills."

Albel closed his eyes briefly, trying to imagine Clair as Airyglyph's queen. She had the comportment for it, and her experience as leader of the Shield Legion was evidence of her ability to command others, and to create strategies to accomplish what needed to be done. He couldn't imagine that many of the council members would be able to gainsay her once she set her mind to something. Of course, that could be a problem as well…she was so fiercely loyal to Aquaria, how could she make the transition to Airyglyph? His eyes flickered open and caught a glimpse of Adray behind the queen, looking atypically sober. It reminded him, though, that Clair had another downside. The thought of Adray has his liege's father-in-law made him shudder subconsciously. Not Clair, then.

"Irisa, moon goddess of sky and dance, oldest of the three, hear and bless this union with wisdom and grace." The third priestess used the same ceremonial dagger as the previous one to trim off a bit of hair from the king and queen-to-be, and dropped the strands into the incense. She plucked a handful of petals from her bundle. "By this hair, and these petals from your cherished Maiden of Irisa, help them to rule their people to the benefit of all."

As for Nel…she had many of the same qualities as Clair. He could almost see her, standing up there at the altar beside Arzei, flaming hair crowned with flowers, smiling up at him – something twisted in his chest. No, that was not Nel at all. It just…didn't fit. Everything in him rebelled at the idea.

Now the queen stepped forth again, calling upon Apris as Woltar and the high priestess came forward and rested their hands on the shoulders of Arzei and Rozaria, respectively. "Apris, highest lord of flame and rebirth…"

Her voice droned on, but Albel was no longer listening. He studied the profile of Nel next to him as she soberly watched the proceedings. No, Nel was not meant to be confined to the role of ruler any more than he was. While she was more than strong enough for the job, being queen would limit her far too much. She would not operate half so well with her hands partially tied by custom and politics and required visibility, limiting her options.

Idly, he imagined her paired with various other men, before discarding them all as unsuitable. Nel, he decided, was best off as she was – ready to defend what she believed in by any means necessary, even if that means needed to be secret, even if it gained her public revulsion instead of acclaim due to the methods that were sometimes required. Nel protected her people, and that was the end of it.

What would they do if they lost her? Would they even notice? Oh, her friends would, of course, but what about the general populace? Did they even realize what they had?

Abruptly everyone stood, momentarily taking Albel by surprise as he rose one shaky moment behind them. The newly-wed king and queen of Airyglyph started back down the aisle, accompanied by a chanted litany of blessings from each of the deities. The other celebrants joined the procession one by one, in the reverse order of how they had entered, Queen Romeria bringing up the rear with the now-blazing bowl of incense held high above her head.

Once she was well past, each row filed out into the aisle to join the procession. Albel blindly followed Nel and Clair out into the crowd of chanting people, still preoccupied.

As they passed out beyond the threshold, Nel nudged his arm with her elbow, looking at him with mild concern. "You all right?"

He rolled his eyes at her.

She didn't seem reassured, but at that moment Farleen and Tynave approached through the mob, which had now devolved back into the noisy mass it had been before the ceremony while the royalty went out into the castle's courtyard to be presented to the townspeople who had not been able to attend. Tynave paused respectfully a step away, but Farleen guilelessly grabbed Nel's arm, chattering about styling their hair for the reception and dance to follow. A moment later, she seemed to realize he was there, and closed her mouth abruptly underneath his stony glare.

Rolling his eyes again, Albel gave a dismissive wave and turned to walk away.

"Albel!" she called out. He paused and looked back. "See you at the reception," Nel said, a bit discomfited as her companions gathered around her. He nodded slowly.

"Later." He walked away and the crowd separated them.

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And there you have it. Lord, save me from having to write another ceremony in this story. Next chapter will be more interesting – the actual scene that inspired the story, and even a bit of action. Oh, and Roger - mustn't forget about him. ^_^


	9. Foreign Relations

**Disclaimer: **If you're looking for this story's disclaimer, please refer to Chapter One.

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**(September 10, 2011) **Here we go - the chapter that actually started it all when this story first popped into my head. I'd rather have published it on 9-9 (I do love my nines, you know) but I couldn't quite swing it. 9-10-11 is almost as cool, though. As it is, this has not been beta'd yet. I'll update as needed after they've looked it over. Preemptive thanks to Lucrecia LeVrai and Blue Persuasion!

Despite knowing exactly how this chapter was going to go, it was crazy-hard to write. I just couldn't seem to get the words to line up with the pictures in my head… To jog the creative juices, I did sketch out a few things for this chapter – Nel's, Clair's, and Albel's outfits, as well as Rozaria's wedding dress from chapter 8 and a little scene that occurs about halfway through this one. Feel free to check them out on deviantArt, though I recommend reading the chapter first, as the scene drawing's a bit of a spoiler. The link's my "homepage" in my profile.

**(December 11, 2011) **Revised (by me; my betas are still swamped with RL stuff) for my best friend's b-day. ^_^ He probably won't ever read this, but oh well. Happy Birthday, Joel! ^_^ I'd have preferred to have Chapter 10 for you, but didn't make it. Maybe for _my _birthday, we'll see.

Thank you to the reviewers of the original chapter (especially BlueRyuu) for pointing out some things I fixed in this new version!

Longest chapter yet! Woo!

Enjoy!

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The Nature of Strength  
By: BlueTrillium

Chapter 9: Foreign Relations

_Smack._

Albel smirked with mild satisfaction as the annoying white cloak collided with the wall, sliding down to form an untidy heap on the floor as the suite's door clicked shut behind him. If only he wasn't about to replace it with something else nearly as confining… He stared blankly at the rumpled pile of cloth for a moment before shaking the introspection aside and looking around the room.

It was quite small, and mostly empty – possibly a store room or servant's quarters, hastily cleared to give space for the visiting dignitaries to have someplace private to dress. To the side, an open doorway led to a second room for His Majesty and Count Woltar. Anyone seeking to get to them would have to go through him. Albel approved.

Whatever had inhabited it before, now this room contained only his (locked) traveling trunk, a desk and chair, and an armor stand – of all things – modeling the outer layer of his court costume for the reception. The inner layer, of course, he had already been wearing beneath the wedding cloak. The corner of his mouth twisted up sardonically as he took in the sight of the sleek jacket waiting on the stand. Well, fancy clothing was armor of a sort, he supposed, but there was one thing he needed to do first before donning it. He strode across the room to his trunk.

He could hear the bustle through the open door to the next room as people shuffled around, no doubt aiding Arzei and Woltar with the last touches to their attire. One attendant poked his head through the doorway and timidly asked if Albel needed any assistance. Albel dismissed him with a grunt before slipping his fingers up along his neck, fumbling a bit, and finally unclasping the silver chain hiding underneath his collar.

The key slid easily from the loosened chain into his palm, and he bent to fit it into the trunk's lock. A quick turn, and the lid popped up a bare inch. Albel caught the edge of it and raised it the rest of the way. Various garments met his gaze, already disordered somewhat from the removal of his court clothing. Impatiently he pushed the cloth aside, uncovering the large box containing the offworlders' gift. He dragged it out and set it on the desk before flipping the catches that held it shut and lifting the top.

There, nestled in some odd foam-like material, lay an arm. It was so lifelike that, save for the lack of blood, it could be any one of the many severed limbs Albel had seen (and caused, some) in the course of his life.

Except that it was _his _arm.

Reaching out, Albel spread his good hand alongside the splayed fingers of the prosthetic. The length of the fingers, the width of the palm, the coating of fine, pale hairs – it was the same. The only difference between true flesh and false was the perfection. No calluses, no scars or blemishes or uneven fingernails marred the arm in the box. It was the _ideal _of an arm. Even if he had not failed his Accession ceremony all those years ago, his true arm would never have been so flawless. It was a bit eerie.

Slightly unnerved, Albel jerked his hand back as if it had been burned, before cursing his own foolishness and turning his attention to his claw arm.

The bulkier armor plates had been removed before the wedding, so as to allow the blasted cloak to lie more smoothly across his shoulders. But it was still a claw, still joined to metal plates in the shape of an arm, all the way up to the midpoint between his elbow and shoulder – ugly, and therefore "inappropriate" for dancing and other "courtly activities". Albel scoffed, but quietly.

A flat panel near the join where flesh met metal flipped open at his touch and revealed two oddly-shaped protrusions. The first was a toggle; Albel pressed it and gritted his teeth as all vitality drained out of the prosthetic, leaving only a disconcerting numbness and the dead weight of the limp mechanism behind. Grasping the second knob, he turned it forcefully three times sunwise. He heard the faint _snick_sas somewhere inside, several hooks and latches disengaged.

Albel withdrew his fingers and allowed the panel to fall closed, and then clasped his hand around the metal of his upper arm and gave a twisting yank. With a quiet rasp of metal-on-metal, the claw-arm detached from the stump of his arm and pulled free.

Unbalanced by the sudden loss of weight, Albel staggered a bit, then righted himself and laid the now-lifeless contraption on the desk next to the box. Out of habit he averted his eyes from the unsightly mechanical port that was grafted into the end of his arm and determinedly reached into the box, pulling out the new prosthesis. The false skin gave a bit under his fingers. Ugh, it even _felt _like a real arm…

Feeling a bit ghoulish, he carefully fitted the raw end of the false arm into his port and twisted, reversing his earlier steps to lock it in place. A brief bolt of pain zinged through him as he pressed the last toggle to engage the runology that brought the arm to life, and he drew in his breath with a hiss, riding it out. When it had passed, he carefully smoothed the edges of false skin over the prosthetic boundary, blending in to his real skin and solidifying the illusion of a complete limb.

Ghoulish though it might be, it really was a remarkable bit of technology, Albel mused. He flexed and wriggled the fingers and swung the arm back and forth a few times to build up a feel for the new limb. Its movement was clean and fluid as ever. The air brushing against it ruffled the pale hairs, and Albel raised an eyebrow at the unusual sensitivity. Truly impressive, not that he would ever admit such to anyone. He wondered if it would transmit pain as well…and hoped he would not need to find out. Not today, at any rate. He had enough to deal with.

Shrugging off his wayward thoughts, Albel moved to the armor stand and removed the formal jacket. He examined it briefly before pulling it on, sliding his arms into the loose belled sleeves. It really wasn't so bad, he thought, though the stiff silver-embroidered pads on the shoulders were a bit uncomfortable. Nothing like the ridiculous get-ups some of the others were no doubt wearing. Unlike theirs, _his _outfit was modeled after a formal military uniform. It was just simple, midnight-blue silk with silver piping around the edges, falling like water down his back to mid-calf, open in front to display the form-fitting top and skirt of the main costume he was already wearing – also mostly a plain midnight-blue.

Albel glanced back at the armor stand and noticed the long ribbons of midnight and silver fabric draped over it, previously hidden by the jacket. Inwardly he groaned. Re-wrapping the long tails of his hair was tedious at the best of times. He silently snarled as he snatched up the bits of cloth. Well, this was one bit of torture he wouldn't suffer through by himself. He angrily packed his claw into the arm-box, dropped the box into his trunk, lowered the lid, and relocked it. Then he refastened the key to its chain around his neck (easier now, since he could use both hands, though clenching the ribbons slowed him somewhat), and stalked into the next room.

Woltar, apparently finished with his grooming, turned at Albel's entrance. He smiled. "Albel my boy, I must say you cut quite a striking figure."

Albel ignored him. He flung the wad of ribbon fabric at the nearest unoccupied attendant with the command "Hair" and moved to stand in front of the tall multi-paneled mirror next to the king. Arzei's outfit was one of the complex monstrosities Albel was glad to avoid, and his servants were still clustered about him rearranging, folding, and fastening bits of cloth, following no pattern Albel cared to discern. The results so far did look imposing, though. Arzei quirked a long-suffering brow at his subject via the mirror but said nothing, and Albel returned in kind.

Reluctantly he drew his gaze back to his own image in the mirror. As the attendant began painstakingly wrapping the ribbons around his hair, Albel tightened the front panel of his outfit, meticulously drawing it flat and fastening the column of silver buttons that ran up the left side one by one. A line of silver piping ran from his opposite hip up to each button, resulting in a fan of silver lines across the dark material covering his chest once he had them all fastened. He pulled the collar of the outfit up, hiding the metal neck cuff he still wore, and buttoned that as well. He smoothed all the wrinkles out of the garment, then re-settled the jacket on his shoulders and fastened the heavy silver chain that linked the lapels across his front. He shook out the sleeves to make them settle properly at his wrists, and then crossed his arms, impatiently waiting for the servant to finish with his hair.

At last, all the preparations were complete. The attendants pulled back with murmurs of flattery and allowed the three men to examine the results. The king pronounced their appearance as satisfactory.

"Well, shall we?" Woltar gestured grandly, and Arzei nodded. The old man preceded the others back into Albel's chamber, where he opened the hallway door and held it for his king, before falling into place behind him as he and Albel flanked the king down the hallway toward the celebration.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Nel yawned discreetly into her palm as she let the chatter of her companions wash around her. Really, she was grateful to Clair and the girls for keeping her company between dances, but… She distractedly smoothed out a fold in her skirt and gazed across the room.

A change in subject directed her way caught her attention. "…So, when do you think you'll be able to go back and visit your Glyphlings?" It was Clair that asked, a cheerfully teasing smile on her face.

"Well, I hope to go back soon after the celebrations are over here. Jos's birthday is coming up, and it's his first one with us, so..." Nel shrugged. "I have hopes that the queen might assign me at least temporarily as liaison to Airyglyph and send me back with them."

Farleen perked up at that, saying, "You don't think she'll send Lasselle?"

The red-headed former spy shook her head in negation. "_He _might think so, but no, he doesn't really have the tact for it, and she probably needs him here, to finish paperwork on the treaty and work with the liaison Airyglyph sends here."

"Darn; guess we're stuck with him then," the younger woman giggled. "But that'd be great if you could go. Oh! And I know just the thing for Jos's birthday present."

Nel opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder. "May I have this dance?" a light tenor voice asked from behind her. Nel stiffened, shocked. She hadn't heard that voice since… With blinding speed, she spun around and hugged the man that had spoken, hard. "Mik! When did you –"

"Ah, ah!" He shook his finger at her chidingly. "Dance first. C'mon, milady." He bowed grandiosely before grabbing her hand and escorting her out onto the floor, ignoring her laughing protests.

Reaching an open spot on the dance floor, Mik grabbed her other hand and they began to dance. Nel was grateful it was a relatively slow dance, since that allowed her to get a good look at the young man before her. She beamed up at him. "You look great, Mik. The islands agreed with you, then?"

He shrugged easily and returned her grin. "As much as anything does, I guess. The food was great, though, and you should just _see _some of the flowers up there. Amazing colors, and some as big as your head!" Mik gestured expansively with one hand to demonstrate. "We did try to press a couple of blossoms to bring back and show you. Not as good as the live thing, though. And the scent! It reminded me of Mama's perfume, and…" He faltered and stopped dancing, biting his lip.

Nel pulled him closer and rested her head on his chest. "I am so, so sorry, Mik," she murmured, before releasing him a bit to look him in the eye once again. "It happened so fast, and then they rushed you off…I didn't even get to say goodbye, after…" She clamped her lips shut on a quiet sob and closed her eyes, but a lone tear escaped to roll down her cheek.

"Hey." Mik reached out a hand to brush the tear away. "Not your fault. And don't let the munchkin see you cry, or –"

A deafening screech cut off whatever he had been about to say, as a brown-and-pink projectile shot out of the surrounding crowd, resolving itself into a small girl as she bulled into Nel's knees and latched on to her skirt.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Albel was _not_ having a good time.

He'd done his duty, dancing once with Airyglyph's new queen. The annoying chit refused to talk (not that he'd have had anything to say to her, anyway) and instead gazed up at him measuringly like he was some kind of research project. And then, when her distraction led her to step on his foot, all his resulting glare had elicited from her was a soft laugh. A _laugh_! At _him_, Albel the Wicked!

He couldn't decide if that made her brave or foolish. Brave, because very few people were allowed to laugh at him and escape intact, or foolish for believing that her newfound rank would exempt her from his retaliation – which was true, inasmuch as Albel wouldn't be able to harm her _physically_, but…well, he'd come up with _something._

It was a relief to hand her off to her next partner when the music ended.

After that, he'd done an excellent job of ignoring and being ignored by the majority of the wedding guests. Albel didn't quite manage to blend in with the scenery – conversations tended to stop as soon as he got within hearing distance before starting up again after he passed by – but it was an acceptable time, if lamentably boring.

The young knight managed several civil nods with other Glyphian guests, and even exchanged a few words with some scholarly Aquarian runologist he didn't know. He ignored several sets of eyes taking in his now-normal-looking hand before looking quickly away. No one had attacked or insulted him, at least. Albel had just decided to find a glass of cider and an out-of-the-way spot along a wall to settle in for awhile when his latest torment arrived.

A slim dark-haired woman planted herself in his path. Elena. She eyed him up and down critically before nodding to herself. "A dance, I think," she said, holding out her hand imperiously.

Albel bit back his first and second reactions at such a high-handed demand, and finally settled for just rolling his eyes a bit as he reluctantly accompanied her out to the dance floor.

For several moments, they danced in silence. Then, "She laughed," Elena said.

He quirked an eyebrow in confusion.

Elena smiled gently. "Rozaria. She laughed when you danced with her." Seeing the young man's expression immediately darken, she continued. "Don't worry; I think very few – if any – others noticed, if that's what you're worried about. It's just that I haven't seen her laugh very much, in these recent days. And so I am curious – what happened?"

Albel's scowl deepened. "She stepped on me," he bit out, his voice low. "Only that. Apparently, such a thing has become the height of entertainment," he concluded sarcastically.

His dance partner chuckled. "No doubt you supplied her with a copy of your current ecstatic facial expression, as well. Who could resist?" He grumbled to himself and swept her into a turn with only a little unnecessary force. "Seriously, though," Elena continued, "most likely she was taken by surprise at getting any expression at all from you. You _have _been particularly statue-like this evening. Not to mention that it was probably quite refreshing for her to have a partner that wasn't gushing about her beauty or congratulating her good fortune or some such. I expect she's heard quite enough of that today."

"Hmm." Albel contemplated that a bit as they moved through several more swirls of the dance. _At least the girl's head is not turned by flattery, if that's true…_

"I hope someday you'll see that—" Elena cut off abruptly as she caught sight of something in the dancing crowd. "Oh! So they did make it back in time, after all!"

Despite himself, Albel turned to follow her gaze, only to see Nel for the first time that evening, dancing in the arms of a young man he didn't recognize. They were standing rather close…his eyes narrowed as he examined the man. Wiry, but fit, he decided, noting the flex of the man's arms as he pulled the redhead a bit closer. His deep emerald formalwear was expertly tailored, and the gold trim drew glints from his brown wavy hair. Inwardly Albel scoffed a bit at the almost foppish short cape and completely pointless bandanna, willfully neglecting to remember that many guests were dressed similarly.

_What is Nel doing with someone like _that_, _he wondered. _And why is she smiling so broadly?_

The couple seemed to be having quite an intense conversation, Albel noted, as the man flung out one arm in a gesture that narrowly missed the neighboring dancers.

Abruptly, the pair stopped moving, and both their faces fell. _Messed it up already, has he? _Albel had time to think smugly, but then Nel hugged the man even closer. Albel watched in stunned disbelief as she stepped back a bit, evidently crying, and the man lifted a hand to cup her cheek.

_What is he _doing_? _Albel thought, not very coherently, as he took an involuntary step in their direction. _I'll— _He was yanked back to reality when his own forgotten dance partner tugged him out of the way of a screeching child running through the crowd.

The slim warrior watched, bewildered, as the little girl barreled right into Nel, clutching the woman's skirt in one tiny hand while the redhead blindly reached down to pat her head. The child – no older than four, he judged – was unmistakably related to the man. Same wavy dark brown hair, same nose…and yet, the hair held a tint of auburn that the man's didn't have, and she was clinging to _Nel_, not the man…could it be? Surely not…

"Who…?" Albel coughed out. It felt like the world might have rearranged itself when he wasn't looking and stolen away all his air at the same time.

Elena took pity on the Glyphian's wild-eyed expression and drew him gently out of the crowd of dancers, over to the side where they were out of the way. Losing sight of Nel and her companions, Albel turned to stare at her instead. Elena patted his hand calmly.

"The little girl? That's Rielle, Lady Nel's heir. And the young man is Mik, Rielle's guardian until she reaches her majority. They've been out of the country, staying in the northern islands, ever since those sky-ships attacked. I knew word had finally been sent that it was safe for them to return, but I was surprised they received it and got back in time for the wedding – that's what I was talking about earlier."

"Guardian? He looks related. Is he Rielle's…? I didn't think Nel had any family…?" Albel still wasn't sure _what _was going on, but he didn't like the off-balance feeling one bit.

"Yes…Mik is Rielle's older brother…" Elena cocked her head, wondering at Albel's rather extreme reaction. Then a glimmer of understanding awoke when the word 'brother' seemed to drain some of the tension from his shoulders. She elaborated to put him more at ease. "They are Nel's cousins – their mother was Nel's mother's younger sister. Clair is Nel's cousin, too – did you know? Adray was a Zelpher before he married into the Lasbard family; he's Nel's uncle." She smiled at Albel's slight grimace at that information. "As for Rielle being Nel's heir – well, unless and until Nel marries and has little girls of her own, Rielle is her nearest female relation in the Zelpher line, since Rielle and Mik's mother was killed in that awful attack." Elena tapped her chin thoughtfully, scanning the crowd. "Their grandfather ought to be around here somewhere, but that's it – that's the extent of Nel's living family."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Albel made his way through the crowd toward the buffet tables, figuring some food might help settle all the new information in his mind. It was odd, realizing that Nel had family; he'd always thought she was like himself – no direct blood kin left.

_She had all this – family that would actually _care _if she was gone – and _still _risked it all in the war…_ He shook his head. Of course she had. That's the kind of person she was; guarding her country and her loved ones was what she did.

Reaching the table, Albel quickly scooped up a plate and some snacks. As he turned to look for a place to sit, something bumped heavily into his knees from behind, early oversetting his food. The Glyphian growled and spun around to find his assailant, but at first saw nothing.

"Ahem." The rather pompous noise drew his eyes downward, where he found a plump, stripy-tailed Menodix brat batting his large brown eyes up at him in seeming innocence. It was Roger, son of the mayor of Surferio. Albel sighed; this was just what he didn't need right now.

"Hiya, Albel!" the boy chirped enthusiastically. "Long time no see! Didja miss me?" Without waiting for a reply, the brat babbled on and on; about the guests, about the food, about how many points he was up on his friends in their latest Real Man contest and would Albel help him plan the next one, and by the way where did Albel's super-cool claw go? Blah, blah, blah. Albel waved a hand dismissively, and then began to walk away.

"Hey!" came the indignant squeak, followed by an obnoxious tug on Albel's jacket. "I'm not done yet!" The Black Brigade commander turned and bent down swiftly, coming nearly nose-to-nose with the little pest. Roger gulped at the sudden proximity. "S-so?" the boy stuttered.

Albel gave his most evil smirk. "Can it, worm," he said, slowly and clearly, before showing his teeth again and straightening back up, careful of his plate. The little Menodix scuttled away, temporarily cowed.

A stifled snort caught Albel's attention, changing quickly into a full-on laugh as the sound's owner lost control of it. He looked over to see Nel, by herself this time, trying in vain to politely muffle her merriment. "C-c-can…worm?" she gasped out. "Going fishing, Albel?"

He couldn't help it; the image that statement brought to mind made him grin along with her. "Hmm….think he'd be any good as bait?" Albel scratched his chin in pretend thought, and then shook his head mock-regretfully. "Nah, the fish'd probably spit him right back out. Might jump on shore to escape him, though; that might work." Nel's laughter rang out again, and he surprised himself with a few chuckles of his own.

Albel waited, content to watch as Nel regained a hold of herself. It was the first time he'd really gotten to look at _her _this evening, and he was struck by the elegant picture she made. Her vibrant hair was twisted up along the back of her head, held up by small jeweled combs and two long golden spikes. Large golden rings formed a column down her front and, combined with sparkling threads that wound around her body, cinched the dress close around her slender torso and hips before allowing the white skirt to flare out and pool around her feet. The top of the dress left her arms and back bare, displaying more of the sinuous runes than he knew she had. And the drape of the cloth in front seemed to hint at more of a bust than he would have believed, too.

_Any_ male would notice that, he justified when he found himself ogling a bit.

Her laughter finally dying down, Nel caught where his eyes were straying to and blushed slightly, straightening up and fidgeting with her skirt a bit. "A little fancier than my usual, I admit," she self-deprecatingly mumbled, not looking at him. "And the white's got me feeling rather like a sacrificial virgin from a fairy tale…"

The word 'sacrifice' triggered a thought in Albel's head and he abruptly sobered. "You're not, are you?" he asked, leaning forward. The idea that she might have come over and been keeping him company – 'sacrificing' herself and her time – just so that others wouldn't have to deal with him was ridiculous, given the way his evening had gone so far, but persistent.

Startled at his change in demeanor, Nel's eyes darted up to meet his. Something she saw there seemed to betray what he meant, though, and triggered a bit of mischief to answer it. Embarrassment forgotten, she put her hands on her hips in a scolding pose. "Not what? Sacrificial, or virgin?" She smirked.

The mischief was contagious, and somehow laid his suspicions to rest. Albel crossed his arms and took up his own arrogant pose, leering at her exaggeratedly. "Well," he drawled, "I had _meant _to ask about the sacrificial part, but if you're offering to answer the other…" He left the question dangling in the air tauntingly.

"None of your business, Albel Nox!" Clair said, amused, as she walked up beside Nel. Her lavender dress draped gracefully from where it was gathered at her right shoulder and swayed gently with her movement. Clearly, she had overheard most of the conversation. Albel felt a moment's dismay that their banter had been interrupted – this was the closest he'd been to having fun all night. But Clair didn't seem truly upset, so perhaps…

_There is a way to continue this, you know, _his subconscious urged. _And it'll serve the double purpose of keeping Woltar happy that his instructions are being followed…_

Albel smirked and looked down his nose at Clair, continuing the game. "Well, then," he sniffed, doing his best imitation of the snootiest courtier he could think of. "I'd best take my…_business_…elsewhere." With a sly glance at the women, he set down his mostly-untouched plate on a nearby end table, then made as if to leave. As he passed the chuckling redhead, he bowed slightly and offered his hand. "If you would?" His tone was mock-solemn, but he looked up at her with real question in his eyes.

Nel hesitated a moment, looking from him to Clair and back again. "I don't know…"

Clair gave her a scoffing laugh and a small push. "Oh, go on you two." Nel smiled and accepted Albel's hand, and he pulled her into the dance. Not long afterward, the pair saw Clair get drawn into the dance by another elegantly-dressed young man. Nel huffed a bit in relief.

"Worried about leaving her alone?" Albel raised a sardonic eyebrow. "She can take care of herself, it would seem." This close, the subtle scent of some exotic flower wafted up from Nel's hair. Unidentifiable, but pleasant. He tried not to breathe it in too obviously.

"I know. We've just always had each other's backs at this kind of thing. It's become a bit of a tradition." She looked up at him through her lashes. "We keep each other from being wallflowers."

Albel scoffed. "You'll never convince me that a pair of women like you two ever lacked dance partners. You're…not exactly hags, you know," he said, a little uncomfortable with the almost-compliment. His hand pressed a bit harder into her back, as if to keep her from running away.

The corner of Nel's mouth turned up, and she moved slightly closer at his cue. "Thanks, Albel," she said dryly. "Coming from you, that means a lot, I suppose." Her smile softened a bit. "You look nice, too, you know."

"Hmph." That was all the sound he made, but a small, pleased smile crossed his lips and he relaxed a bit as they entered the next figure in the dance.

They were silent for a moment, just swaying to the music. Suddenly, Nel's gaze shot upwards, past his shoulder, and widened in panic. Caught off-guard, Albel allowed himself to be dragged along as Nel suddenly spun the two of them around, yelling, "Watch o—"

With a dreadful _thwack_, a crossbow bolt drilled high into Nel's back. She staggered, slumping against his chest. "The…Queen…" she gasped out, before her eyes rolled back in her head and she went limp. Albel held on to her tightly as his eyes flew up to the balcony that ringed the upper level of the great hall, searching for the source of the attack.

There – a flicker of movement, and another bolt whistled toward them. Instinctively, the young knight raised his false arm to guard, and it thudded home there, stuck fast. As part of the same movement, Albel yanked one of the golden skewers from Nel's hair and flung it with deadly accuracy back along the path the crossbow bolt had flown. There was a choked cry and a thud, as a third bolt flew wide and struck the wall.

"To arms!" Albel roared, as more bolts started to wing down from the balcony, pinning several other guests. "'Ware!" He snatched the other spike from his partner's hair and looked around wildly for another target, hindered by the need to support the woman in his arms. The crowd had begun to panic, pushing him this way and that.

Clair appeared beside him. "Here, I'll take her." She offered her arms out for Nel. "You protect Their Majesties." He glanced at her, skeptical, and she raised her skirt just high enough to show a bloody gash along her calf. She grimaced. "They clipped me – I can't run. You go."

He nodded and gingerly handed over his charge. "Careful," he said. "Might be poison – Nel went down too fast, even for a hit like that."

The silver-haired woman nodded in grim agreement. "I feel it," she admitted. "We'll get under cover. Go!" Without waiting to see what he'd do, she pulled Nel's arm across her shoulders and started dragging her towards the nearest tables.

Albel watched them only a moment before whirling and shoving his way through the mob towards the royal dais, where a protective shield had already sprung up. It flickered under the onslaught as bolt after bolt struck it.

Another frightened courtier jostled him, jarring the quarrel still embedded in his false arm. The bolt's tip grated against something, and while it didn't _hurt, _precisely, it definitely felt odd and hampered his movement. Cursing softly, Albel broke off the shaft as closely to the arm as possible, letting the shaft fall to the floor as he continued through the crowd.

As he got closer, though, it was clear the tide was turning. On the dais, he could see that Woltar had managed to build a shelter of sorts from tables and overturned chairs, and had forcibly pressed all three royals down into its slight protection. The old man brandished a bronze platter like a shield as he stood over them. Queen Romeria seemed to be focusing on holding the runological shield steady, assisted by Lasselle. New-made Queen Rozaria knelt next to her husband, and with a frown of concentration she worked to mend a vicious-looking wound in his side. The missiles from the balcony had started to slack off as runologists around the room gained their bearings and started firing spells of their own.

Nel's purple-haired subordinate – Farleen, that was her name – ran up, panting, at the same time he reached the dais. Seeing that the situation was mostly under control here, he grabbed at her arm, formulating the next plan. "How many ways up to the balcony? And where?" he shouted over the cacophony.

"Two!" she squeaked, pointing out two doors at opposite sides of the hall. "There!"

"Disable and apprehend!" he bellowed, and shoved the tiny woman towards one door while he himself took off for the other, his mind working out scenarios furiously. They'd need at least one assassin alive to interrogate…but probably no more than that. A bloodthirsty grin spread across his lips. Oh, they would pay…

He lowered his shoulder and rammed the door without pausing. It flew open and crashed violently into the wall – crushing and trapping the arm of the black-swathed man that had been near-behind it. Almost without thought, Albel kept his weight on the door to hold the man pinned and swung his fist around, still holding Nel's hair spike, and drove it right into the assassin's neck. Blood fountained. _One down, _Albel counted gleefully. He bounded towards the stairs where he could see another assassin coming down. Silver glinted in the enemy's hand. _Faster…_too late.

A sudden, stabbing pain hit Albel in the ribs and rocked him backwards a step. Looking down, he saw the hilt of a throwing knife protruding from his right side just above the elbow. With a snarl of rage, the berserk Glyphian warrior tore the blade free and flung it up the stairs, into the chest of the assassin standing there, hand still raised from his own throw. _Two._

Faintly he heard the voice of someone back in the grand hall calling his name. "Albel, look out!" He turned in time to see a third black-clad person step out of a niche in the hallway where he had passed it in his rush for the stairs, swinging a heavy candlestick at his head with impressive speed. Albel's turn moved him right into its path, too near to avoid it –

There was a flash of light as they collided, then only darkness.

* * *

Ha-ha, cliffhanger! Coming up next chapter – the aftermath of the attack.

Don't forget to poke me if/when I take too long to update!

* * *

I should note that Nel's family tree, as described in this chapter, is completely my own invention. And there is no canon proof (or denial, for that matter) that Adray and Clair are related to Nel. I just arranged it that way for this story.

To clarify this story's Zelpher family tree a bit, if anyone cares –

Nel's Zelpher grandparents had three children: Adray (oldest), Nel's mother (middle), and Mik/Rielle's mother (youngest).  
Adray married into the Lasbard family line and they had Clair.  
Nel's mother married Nevelle and had Nel.  
Mik/Rielle's mother had, of course, Mik and Rielle.

Living (oldest to youngest) are: Grandpa Zelpher, Adray, Clair, Nel, Mik, and Rielle.

My version of Aquaria is matriarchical and inherits through the female line – which pretty much follows at least implied game canon. Therefore, even though Adray was the oldest, he was not the Zelpher heir; Nel's mother was, followed by Nel as her oldest female child. If Nel died without a daughter of her own, inheritance would have fallen to her aunt (Mik/Rielle's mother), but then when her aunt died in the Vendeeni attack, Rielle became Nel's heir. Clair isn't Nel's heir because she's related to Nel by the male line (through Adray) not the female line.

I may add some dead relatives somewhere along the way if I need them (in particular, I am considering one or two older brothers for Nel, for several reasons) but I have no intention of adding any more living ones, so the OC expansion stops there for now. Don't worry; they won't take over the story. ^_^

* * *

Other notes… I forgot to mention in the original version of this chapter that my version of Albel's claw-arm and how it works draws somewhat from the automail concept from FMA, though greatly tweaked to work on Elicoor II and in my story. ^_^

Also – my mental soundtrack for this chapter was composed mainly of three songs: _Slow Dancin' _(reasonably expected), _Turn the Beat Around _(interesting, but still works), and _Drop-kick Me, Jesus_ (I bet nobody saw that one coming). Heh.


End file.
